


On the Wing of an Owl

by nothingeverlost



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Sirius Black, Coming Out, Gay Remus Lupin, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Indian Harry Potter, James Potter Dies, Lily Evans Potter Dies, M/M, Raising Harry Potter, Remus - Freeform, Sirius Black Never Went to Azkaban, Sirius Black Raises Harry Potter, Slow Burn, Werewolf Remus Lupin, Wolfsbane, Wolfsbane Potion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 71,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27857674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingeverlost/pseuds/nothingeverlost
Summary: A single moment in time altered, two lives spared, and four lives changed forever.  What would have happened if Euphemia and Fleamont Potter had lived?For starters Sirius would never go to Azkaban.A wolfstar/Sirius raises Harry fic
Relationships: Andromeda Black Tonks/Ted Tonks, Euphemia Potter/Fleamont Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 190
Kudos: 331





	1. Prologue - A Ripple in Time

**Author's Note:**

> Slow burn Remus/Sirius. Sirius raising Harry.
> 
> Some drinking and language. Rating will possibly change later.
> 
> This was my Nano for November so there's currently over 50,000 words. Did I mention slow burn?

In the winter of 1978, five months after the Marauders graduated from Hogwarts and eight months before Lily and James married, the Dhawan family owl died. The death of an owl is not a very important thing, in the grand scheme. The family mourns, as they would any pet, but other than an inability to send letters until a new owl is adopted, very little is affected. Usually.

By the time Janya Dhawan’s husband brought home a new owl she was close to delivering her first child, and the letter she had intended to send to her aunt about attending the birth never got written. Her aunt never made plans to visit the home of her youngest sister’s youngest daughter. She and her husband instead stayed in England where a particularly cold winter was paired with a particularly vicious strain of dragon pox. Euphemia and Fleamont Potter both caught the pox from a friend’s grandson and died within hours of each other less than two weeks later.

But what if the owl had lived even a few weeks longer? What if a letter had arrived and Euphemia had made plans to visit her niece? She and her husband would have stayed for a few weeks, visiting family. When they returned to England the epidemic of dragon pox would have subsided and the winter, though still just as cold, wouldn’t have been as wet. Lily and James would have hosted a welcome back dinner. A few months later it would have been the elder Potter’s turn to host an engagement dinner, and eventually a wedding.

The death of an owl can not change a great many things. The war had been set in motion years ago. Battles still happened, people still died. A prophecy was still spoken and on one horrible day in Godric’s Hollow He Who Mush Not Be Named still tried to kill a baby. Lily and James Potter were still the final two victims in the last battle of the war.

Here is what did change. The blood oath needed to protect Harry Potter came from his grandparents and not an aunt who had no interest in his welfare. The family on Privet Drive never woke up to a baby on the front steps. Dudley Dursley was forever an only child both in name and spirit and never learned to share. Whether their lives were better or worse for it we can only speculate. It’s of little consequence to the people that make up our story.

On that terrible night when James and Lily were killed and their son was rescued he was taken to an estate in Weybridge rather than a muggle suburb. Monty Potter was the one to break down, brought to his knees by the death of his only child. Euphemia pushed her grief away for long enough to take her grandson in hand and see to the practicalities of a clean diaper and a warm bottle. This was the first life that is irrevocably changed, a boy who will grow up in a loving home instead of a cupboard under the stairs. It is the first ripple from a small pebble tossed into the river of time.

The second ripple changed three lives dramatically, two for the better.

Sirius Black was under arrest for suspicion of being a Death Eater and responsible for the deaths of Lily and James Potter. In another time there was no one to defend him or believe him, no one but a guilty man who had no interest in helping an innocent man he pushed away long ago. In another time he did not have Euphemia Potter in his corner. He would have sat in a cell until it was decided that there was no point in a trial, not when the Potters were dead and not even Albus Dumbledore would speak up for him. After a week it would have been a cold boat ride to Azkaban and then a cell from which he was never expected to return.

Sirius Black had spent most of his summers and holidays with the Potter family from the time he was thirteen. Euphemia and Monty worried about the lad and tried to fuss over him and look out for him as much as they could, knowing something about his home life. And then came the winter of sixth year when he showed up with a bruised arm, a haunted look in his eye, and a trunk full of everything he owned. From that moment he was their son every bit as much as James. Euphemia knew that her son would not betray his brother, just as she knew that James would have given his very life to keep Sirius safe. Her Sirius was not a Death Eater and she would do whatever necessary to prove it. 

It took two days of pulling the right strings and crossing a few palms with galleons to get in to see Sirius. Fleamont stayed home with the baby, leaving her to sit alone in a drab grey room in the bowels of the Department of Ministry. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” Euphemia’s first thought when Sirius spoke was that his voice sounded as if it had broken and only been half put together again. Her second was that he was too thin; it had been a few months since she’d seen him and he clearly needed some feeding up. She started a mental list of meals she needs to make for him and the sweets she would need to bake. He’d always been fond of her butter chicken and her mysore pak. 

“Monty is taking care of Harry. I would have been here yesterday but there was paperwork.” There was a table between them, but it was not quite wide enough to keep her from reaching out. He jerked away as if he’d been burned.

“James is dead.” Someone who didn’t know Sirius might think his emotionless statement of facts meant he didn’t care. Euphemia knew that he cared too much. He’d learned at a young age that showing emotion meant more pain, a lesson she daily cursed the Black family for teaching him. “And it’s my fault.”

“Did you kill him?” She could barely say the words and can never believe the answer would be affirmative. Sirius would never hurt her son and Lily.

“If it weren’t for me they would still be alive.” There was a circle of sigils on his right wrist, slowly moving. She remembered when he’d come home with the tattoo months ago before she’d heard of the prophecy and the plan to protect her son’s family.

“Because you were their secret keeper?” 

“Because I wasn’t.” The whole story came out then, fresh and painful. She grieved again for one son as she grieved with the other, and when he was done she assured him that going to Azkaban would not bring James and Lily back. It won’t make anything better. He had to tell the truth instead of the stone silence he has been giving the Aurors.

“Besides,” she reminded him, “Harry needs his godfather and Monty and I need our son.”

It took almost a week to get him released, but he never had to go to Azkaban. By the time he was free there were wanted posters for Peter Pettigrew posted. He was not found, which troubled Sirius in the middle of the night, but during the day he was busy with Harry. The difference between playing godfather when the whim suited him and raising a child was overwhelming, and for his sanity as well as Harry’s protection he moved back into the bedroom that had become his long before he officially moved into the Potter home at the age of 16.

Three lives, other than Harry’s, dramatically changed because of one owl. Sirius was home once more, escaping the fate of Azkaban and Dementors. Peter, hunted by the Aurors, never to know a moment’s rest. And the third? At the moment Remus Lupin was in the basement of his old family home in Wales, recovering from the full moon. In another time he was destined to spend the next 127 full moons alone, certain that two of his best friends were dead, the third was a murderer, and that the safest thing for Harry Potter was to stay as far away as he could. His fate in this time was less certain than the others and rests in the hands of Sirius Black.


	2. A Jouney Begins with a Single Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sirius finds his way home and Remus starts a new journey.

The sun was shining when Sirius left the Department of Ministry. It was the first time he’d seen the sun in twelve days and it seemed a sacrilege that it was bright and not hidden behind clouds. The whole world should be weeping for Lily and James.

“Oh thank Merlin.” Monty was waiting for him in the ally, in a set of robes of dark gray. His hair seemed whiter than it had been a few months ago, no signs left of the strawberry blond it had been once. His skin was fragile like those dusty old tomes Remus liked to read.

He couldn’t think about Remus, not right now. His head was already throbbing with too many thoughts.

“You didn’t need to come,” he told the man who had been a father to him for almost a decade. He should have known one of the Potters would be waiting for him, but it seemed too much to ask of them.

“I wasn’t sure you’d feel up to apparating just yet, my boy, so I hired a car to take us home.” Monty’s step faltered a little as he turned. Sirius automatically grabbed his elbow, steadying him. Monty looked at him for a moment before taking another step. When he spoke it was in a voice that was soft, and more to himself. “That’s just right, lad. We’ll prop each other up.”

It took a little less than an hour to reach the house, the last five minutes down a private lane that the driver wouldn’t be able to find later even if he had a reason to drive out to Weybridge again to look. The house had changed little since Sirius first saw it at the age of twelve, the summer before Second year when he stayed for a week. It looked like James should come running out the door at any moment to greet him, like he had a thousand times before.

James would never greet him again.

The sprawling manor house had been in Monty’s family for generations, probably as long as Grimmauld Place had belonged to his own family line. Where Grimmauld was weighed down with the past, however, the Potter home was alive, treasured antiques from the Potter’s English roots entwined with the warm colors and scents of Euphemia’s Indian heritage. A suit of armor in the hall had a dent on one arm where he’d knocked it against a wall after James had used it to scare him once. Opposite the armor was a bronze elephant decorated in jewels, the trunk raised in a show of prosperity. Harry was using the elephant to pull himself up, focusing on standing until the door opened and he noticed the new arrival.

“Pa-foo,” he said clearly, looking up at Sirius with eyes the same vivid green as Lily’s, his hair sticking up at odd angles just like James. For the first time in a week Sirius broke down in tears, collapsing onto the floor. Harry lost interest in the elephant and fell backward, landing on his well-padded butt and rolling over to crawl over to the object of his attention. His small fingers found the holes in the jeans Sirius wore and he used them to pull himself up until he was almost in his godfather’s lap. Sirius pulled himself together enough to support the lad, holding him close to his chest. The warmth he felt against his skin was alien after weeks of only feeling cold, or more often feeling nothing at all. Harry reached out one chubby hand to touch Sirius’ cheek. “Pad-foo wet.”

“He’s been waiting for you. I told him you were coming today.” Euphemia stood in the hall, ignoring the single tear falling down her cheek. She was dressed in robes of pure white without adornment, her feet bare despite the chilly November day. The white was for mourning he knew. She had told him once that bare feet made her feel more connected to her home and her magic. “Welcome home, Sirius.”

Sirius could only look at her for a moment before bowing his head. 

II

The weeks after the war were a strange time. First came the celebrations, of course, the great silence of the last years ending in cheers and fireworks. The pubs were crowded as friends and strangers alike toasted to the downfall of He Who Must Not Be Named and his followers. Infants who had been born into war woke up for the first time in peace, and children who had been afraid to play were finally able to run in the streets in bright colors and with raised voices. Wizards were no different than any other human and needed their victory, but after the first few days reality set in.

For the first time, they had the leisure to mourn the dead after years of having to push away grief to focus on the next mission, the next battle. For months memorial services happened on a weekly basis, some for a single person, sometimes for an entire family. Two months after the war ended Christmas came, a celebration that highlighted the many empty chairs at Christmas dinner.

In Diagon Alley a memorial was built, a single arm raised with a wand outstretched, behind it a field of stars, Every minute the name hovering above the wand changed, each of the fallen listed in turn. 

Marlene McKinnon  
Dorcas Meadows  
Fabian Prewitt  
Gideon Prewitt  
Edgar Bones  
Benjy Fenwick

It took more than an hour to see every name. After Lily Potter’s name faded away the series began again. There were names that were missing. One day Regulus Black would be added, when his deeds were learned, but that wouldn’t be for years. It would take another month before the death of Arabella Figg was discovered, as she had little communication with wizards and it took time before anyone checked on her. Frank and Alice Longbottom, stuck between life and death, weren’t on the list.

Peter Pettigrew’s name was quietly removed from the list the day after it was discovered that he was still alive.

It was a rare family that wasn’t touched in some way by death. Remus Lupin, half an orphan before the war started, was completely alone after. His father had started fading the moment his mother died; he had chosen recklessness as his way to join her. There had been whispers of werewolves going after muggle families. It was a member of Greywolf’s pack that killed him, though Remus fortunately never knew that fact. He only knew that his father died and he was alone.

In the weeks after the war Remus fled to Wales. For the first time in his adult life he didn’t have anything to do. No mission from Dumbledore, no job, and certainly no friends to meet at the pub. He mourned in his own way, drawing his grief tight around himself. Grief for the friends lost and the relationships that had fallen apart. He tried to look back at everything and figure out when Peter had become a betrayer and where he’d missed the signs. He did not want to think about Sirius, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the much more obvious signs of how badly that friendship had gone wrong. Losing James and Lily was like an amputation, a part of himself that was there one moment and gone the next, leaving phantom pains. Losing Sirius was a festering wound that would probably never heal. He mourned the losses of his friends, all of them.

The Daily Profit announced on the front page when Sirius Black was released, and it was a dull sort of comfort knowing that at least he was free and innocent, or at least as innocent as any of them could be after fighting a war. The picture they used was an old one, from Jame and Lily’s wedding, and it hurt to see it. Though it was only Sirius in the frame, mugging for the camera, Rumus knew that his own younger self had been cropped away. They had all been so happy that day. Sirius had even dragged him out to the dance floor after a few drinks, and it was just a lark for him but Remus could still remember how it had felt to dance with his friend and secret love. He tossed the paper in the bin.

Transforming on his own was always harder, leaving him exhausted. He needed another day of rest, he decided, but then it was time for a change. There was no reason to stay in England. Sentiments against werewolves were even worse after the war; some had been responsible for vicious attacks, and the best that could be said was that some had chosen to remain neutral. He had his parents’ house, but without an income there would be no way to feed himself. There was only one thing he could do that would be of use to anyone; he was going to find Peter. Tomorrow he would start tracking down a rat.

II

Sirius could not sleep. The bed was too soft and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept in a real bed. The last month was a blur of cells and leaning in doorways and curling up in alleys as a dog. After living in the city and fighting a war the sounds of the country were too quiet and strange. Mostly, though, he couldn’t sleep because it felt as if James being dead had changed the whole equilibrium of the world and he couldn’t find his footing.

His bedroom faced the back garden, his view partially obscured by a tree that had been a handy way of coming and going when he was a boy. Many a time he and James had climbed down the tree to go for a midnight swim or smuggle in things to drink. More than once he’d climbed in on his own, the window never locked as if the house itself knew that he sometimes needed a place to run to when his own house was too much. The summer before Fifth year he’d shown up at one in the morning on an August day, climbed inside and collapsed in the bed, sleeping until James had pounced on him and demanded to know why he hadn’t woken him up. Sixth year, when he’d left his family or good, he’d used the front door.

Sometime in the last couple of years Euphemia and Monty had changed their bedroom to the downstairs suite. It meant that of the five upstairs bedrooms the only other one occupied was the one to his left, a guest suite that now held a crib. To his right was James’s room, separated from his own by a bath they had shared. The door to the room that now belonged to Harry was open, and Sirius found himself standing in the doorway more than he tried lying on his bed. The window shade was up and the almost full moon illuminated the crib enough to see the bandage on Harry’s forehead. Magic wounds were hard to heal, and no one knew how long a curse from such a powerful wizard would take before it stopped bleeding.

“James should be the one standing here,” he whispered to the boy as he stood at the edge of the crib. His friend had been so excited about being a father. So proud. So worried about his ability to protect his son and wife. Sirius had sworn that nothing would happen to any of them. He had lied.

“Mmm.” Harry shifted in his sleep, as restless as James had always been. He was such a small thing; Sirius had panicked the first time Lily had handed the baby to him, certain that he would drop the kid and nine months of work would be ruined. James could forgive him just about anything, but probably not a dent in his kid.

“I’ll fuck this up, Prongs, but I swear I will do my best.” The first time James had asked him to be godfather it had seemed a joke. It was a good laugh, him responsible for anyone’s child. Merlin, there were days when he shouldn’t be responsible for himself, let alone another human. As the war had progressed the promise was one that James had reminded him of on occasion. Every time he had panicked and told James that he and Lily were the ones most likely to survive. Even after the prophecy they had a plan. James would be safe. Godfather would be an honorary title that just meant he got to spoil the kid with the things his parents wouldn’t buy for him. And then he’d made the stupidest argument in his life and had convinced James that Peter would be a better secret keeper. James and Lily paid for his mistake with their lives. Harry would pay for the rest of his life, his parents stolen from him.

Thank Merlin for Euphemia and Monty. He couldn’t raise Harry on his own. Without them he wouldn’t know what to do. Without them he’d probably be in a cell in Azkaban.

It was another hour before he slept. He only settled because Harry woke up and needed rocking; they both fell asleep in the chair that had been Lily’s, Harry on his chest, the rocking charm he’d put on the chair long since worn off. Euphemia found them in the early hours of the morning and covered them carefully with a blanket.


	3. All Paths Lead Back to Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus and Sirius both go back to the beginning to find a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both Snape and Dumbledore appear here. I don't believe in character bashing fics, but obviously the characters are going to have their viewpoints. Our boys' view of Dumbledore is complicated throughout the fic. Their opinions about Snape are less complicated.
> 
> I'm aiming to post a chapter every other day. Sometimes I might post daily when there's a short chapter.

There were few places in the world that Remus would like to avoid more than Hogwarts. The place was both haunted with the memories of a happier time and full of people he didn’t want to see. It was unfortunate that he couldn’t shake the feeling of obligation when it came to letting Dumbledore know of his plans. There were also a few research items in the library that weren’t anywhere else, to his knowledge. He knew how his friends had turned into animals; now he needed to learn how to make one of them turn back into a human, or at least as close as one could be to human when they had betrayed their friends.

“Yorkshire pudding.” He managed to get through most of the castle without seeing anyone except Professor Trewlany who hadn’t looked in his direction when she’d walked past. Perhaps she thought he was another spirit haunting the place. The password from a month ago was surprisingly still good, the staircase revealing itself to him. As he ascended Remus couldn’t decide what he hoped for the most, that Dumbledore would be alone so he could deliver his plans swiftly and be on his way, or that the headmaster was not in his office and he could delay his errand for another day.

“Remus, this is a surprise.” Dumbledore sat at his desk, a stack of papers beside him. So it was to be option number one, apparently.

“Is it? You always seemed to know when I was coming, even when it wasn’t planned.” For most of the past year he had been asked to stay away from Order meetings as his own assignment was something that was supposed to be a secret. Most of his meetings had been with Dumbledore either in his office or in Hogsmead. Every time he’d arrived there had been some small sign of Dumbledore’s awareness; a book for him to borrow, a bar of Honeyduke’s chocolate, a folded copy of the Profit open to an article be needed to see. Too often he’d learned of a friend’s death alone in this room with Dumbledore.

“I thought perhaps you would be in Weybridge.” Remus almost had to laugh at the serious suggestion from Dumbledore. Did he really not know anything that had happened in the last year? The relationships that had cracked, the arguments, the long silences and suggestions of doubt? The headmaster usually prided himself on knowing more than anyone.

“There’s no reason for me to be there.” He’d assumed that Sirius would go there; from all accounts the house in Godrick’s Hollow wasn’t livable anymore. It was good to have confirmation.

“I’m not sure that’s the way other people would see it. Harry…”

“Jame and Lily’s son has his godfather and his grandparents. He will be protected and cared for.” The pain of thinking about James was too much. The loss of Lily was almost as bad. He couldn’t speak of them to anyone, and certainly not to a man that had once promised they would be safe. And thinking about Sirius made it impossible to breathe. “But I didn’t come to talk about him, at least not directly. I wanted you to know that I’m going after Peter.”

“I supposed I should have expected that.” Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable.

“No one has found him yet. I know him better than any Auror.” He didn’t know Peter at all, not if he could have so completely betrayed them all. The boy he’d shared a dorm with for seven years had been a friend and a bad liar, not someone who could sell out James to Voldemort. Still, he did know more about the man’s habits and likes than anyone else alive. “And I don’t have anything else to do now.”

“The war is over now, Remus. There will be new opportunities.” 

“For a werewolf?” he scoffed. He wasn’t sure if Dumbledore was really so naive, or if he just didn’t want to admit out loud that he’d educated Remus out of pity for a future he could never really have. “We’re not the most popular creatures in the best of times, sir. It’s only going to be worse for now. But that’s neither here nor there. Someone needs to find Peter. It makes the most sense if that person is me.”

“I had hoped…” Dumbledore shook his head. “There are a great many things that I had hoped would have turned out differently, but nothing can change what has already happened. Madame Pince should be able to help you with your task. There is a spell you’ll want to practice, to reveal Mr. Pettigrew’s form. Will Mr. Black be joining you on your journey?”

“Do you really imagine there’s any situation in which I could bring him back alive if I took Sirius?” He hadn’t seen his friend since James had died. Sirius had been locked up when the Potters had a funeral. Since then Remus had stayed in Wales. He knew without having to think, though, how Sirius would react. He did not handle betrayal with anything less than vengeance.

“Yes, I suppose…”

“Headmaster?” The door opened and Remus froze. He knew that voice.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He had his wand raised and a spell at the tip of his tongue when he turned to see Snape standing on the doorway.

“That is between myself and Dumbledore.” Snape’s expression was carefully schooled, his wand at his side.

“The only thing that should be between you and anyone at Hogwarts is a dementor. I know what you did to Benji.” Remus moved quicker than people expected sometimes, especially people he’d gone to school with. They were so used to looking at Sirius and James that they didn’t pay attention to him. Before Snape could answer Remus pushed up the sleeve of his robes, revealing the tattoo on his arm. The same tattoo that every other Death Eater wore. He wondered if Peter bore the mark as well. How much had they missed in the last year? “I know what you are.”

“Do you really, Lupin? It seems to me that your observation skills are somewhat lacking, but perhaps you should ask Potter about that.” Remus shoved Snape against the wall, wand pressed against his neck, anger making his heart race.

“Severus that was quite unnecessary. I hope I don’t have to point out that an apology is in order.” Dumbledore rested his hand on Remus’s shoulder. Remus’s hands shook as he lowered his wand.

“I apologize,” Snape said with a lack of sincerity. 

“Remus, I know you’re anxious to get started. I hope I will hear from you soon regarding the outcome of your task.” It was a blatant dismissal to anyone who knew him well.

“I can’t leave you alone with him.” Snape had always made Remus uneasy, but he’d tried to push aside his feelings until it had become clear that Snape was the same as his housemates. 

“I will be fine, though you are good to worry. Severus and I have things to talk about.” Dumbledore squeezed his shoulder again. There was nothing he could do, not once Dumbledore made up his mind.

“I won’t be far.” He would have to check on the headmaster before he left and make sure nothing had happened. After all Dumbledore’s instincts might have helped them win a war but they were far from perfect.

II

It took three days before Sirius was able to manage a decent Patronus spell. Happy memories were in short supply, but the vision of Harry spitting out pureed carrots while saying ‘Pad-foo no’ and then giggling when the carrots wound up on Sirius’s face instead was enough to help him focus. He’d sent two owls to Remus but both had come back with the letters still carried with them. A Patronus was his third attempt. Certainly things between him and Remus had been strained in the last year but the war was over and they were the only two Marauders left. They needed to fix things between them.

He didn’t want to think about the possibility that Remus might not want to repair their friendship.

“I don’t know what to do, Effie. I need to talk to him.” Once upon a time he’d teasingly called Euphemia ‘mum,’ mimicking James and teasing that she liked him better. He couldn’t do it now, not when her son was gone and he didn’t deserve to sully the memory by using the name. He’d settled on Effie and she didn’t seem to mind.

“He’s a quiet lad, our Remus. Always seemed like he drew in on himself when he was troubled. Maybe he needs some time alone.” Harry slept in his playpen in the morning room. Sirius wasn’t good at letting him out of view, and paced the room while keeping the playpen in view.

“The last time we talked…” But no, Sirius doesn’t want to think about that. “Things between us haven’t been good for a while. What if he’s not just taking time? What if he doesn’t think he’s wanted?”

“Harry will be quite safe here with Monty and me. Why don’t you visit him in person and make sure he knows how you feel. And tell him he’s welcome here always. He came to the funeral but he left before anyone could talk to him. I was sad I wasn’t able to speak with him.” Effie rested a hand on his forearm. “Both of you meant so much to my boy. He would only want the best for you.”

“James meant everything to us too.” Every time he said the name out loud he wanted to cry, but he needed to be stronger than that for Effie and Harry. “He hated that Remus and I weren’t talking.”

“You still have time to fix things, Sirius.” She kissed his cheek.

“Maybe if all goes well I’ll bring him home for dinner.” His mind made up, Sirius didn’t want to wait any longer. He checked on Harry on last time, stopped in the hall to put on his shoes and get a coat, and apparated to the edge of the Lupin family farm.

The place was dark.

“Remus?” The front door was locked but opened easily with a basic _alohomora_. It was sloppy security, and surprising for someone who had just spent years fighting a war. There were signs that Remus had been there recently; a teacup beside the sink, a Daily Profit on the table that was only two days old, and a lack of dust on most surfaces. Sirius didn’t know what it was exactly that told him Remus wasn’t coming back tonight, but he knew. Still he scribbled a note and left it on the table, letting Remus know he was with the Potters and that Harry wanted to see him. 

He checked the last flat Remus had been renting, but someone else was living there. He tried a few other places he could think of; a favorite bookshop, a muggle bar they used to frequent when he and James and Remus and Peter sometime met up on Friday nights, the Three Broomsticks. It was when he was walking out of the Three Broomsticks that he gritted his teeth and made himself check the shrieking shack. The damage to the place was older, lacking any recent fresh marks. Remus hadn’t transformed there this month. The fact that he didn’t know where Remus had been transforming for the past year was a pain in his stomach that he didn’t want to deal with right now. James had been focused on protecting his family and Peter was more of a rat than they ever could have known, and the only person that could have made Remus’s transformations more bearable was himself. 

Without knowing what else to do he found himself headed for Hogwarts, up a familiar path to the castle from Hogsmead, first traveled with so much joy when he and his mates had been allowed into the village second year, now traveled so much slower and infinitely more alone.

It was late enough in the afternoon that most classes were over. Students who had been in their first years when he graduated were now as tall as him, wandering mostly in groups, looking at him curiously but staying their distance. In a war any stranger was a threat and they had learned well to only stay with people they knew. It would take their whole world time to learn to trust again.

“You seem to be a mite lost, Mr. Black. You do remember graduating I hope?” The first person to stop as he walked the halls was McGonagall. Of course it was. He couldn’t help but grin, wondering just how many times in seven years she had caught him in a place he wasn’t supposed to be. She looked almost the same as she always had, though a little thinner than he remembered with hands that showed their age a little more. He’d last seen her at an Order meeting months ago, when plans were being made to put both the Longbottoms and Potters in hiding. The entire world had changed since then.

“I suppose graduating means you can't take any house points from Gryffindor? It would hardly be fair to them.” He wanted to hug her, a rare impulse that he might have indulged in if James or Remus were around, just to make them laugh. For a moment he was a boy again, caught outside the common room, his worst fear that they wouldn’t win the house cup.

“I’m sure I could come up with something suitable.” Her expression softened as her voice dropped. “How is Harry? Albus said you were staying with Euphemia and the boy. I was relieved to hear your name had been cleared.”

“He misses his mum and dad.” Every time he wailed for ‘mum’ or asked ‘dada?’ hopefully Sirius’s heart cracked a little more. He wasn’t sure how much a heart could fracture and still function but it seemed to be an infinite number of times.

“Of course he does, poor boy.” McGonagall smiled wistfully. Sirius remembered hearing that her nephew had been killed earlier in the war. No one had been spared from their share of the pain. “It’s good that he still has his grandparents. And you, of course. Lily had a sister as well, didn’t she?”

“Not one worth talking about. She’s a useless bint, married to a plonker. Doesn’t have a kind bone in her body. I wouldn’t trust her to care for a hamster let alone a child.” She had a kid, he remembered vaguely, but that didn’t matter. The way she’d talked about Lily and made her cry was enough for him to know that she didn’t deserve to even look at Harry.

McGonagall shook her head, but didn’t comment on Petunia. Sirius had the feeling that she knew more about the situation than a vague “she had a sister” but there was no point in wasting any time thinking about it. “Did you come here for a reason, Mr. Black? I don’t believe Dumbledore is here right now.”

“I’m trying to find Remus and I don’t know where else to look.” It sounded faintly ridiculous when he said it out loud, but the threads that tied them together ran strongly through Hogwarts and he needed to follow them. Not for the first time he wished that the map that they’d made covered more than just the school grounds.

“Mr. Lupin isn’t here now, but I believe he did visit a few days ago.” There was a look in her eyes that told him that she might know more, but she was well used to keeping her own counsel about things.

“I mucked things up badly. We knew there was a spy, and Remus wouldn’t tell me what he was doing, and I...” He took a breath and shifted his weight from foot to foot. McGonagall was a rare person whose opinion of him actually mattered and he hated to imagine what she might think of him. “I have to fix things.”

“I don’t know what he and Albus talked about, that is between them, but I think I have some idea of how Mr. Lupin might think. The war might be over but there’s at least one loose end that’s still unraveled for which he might feel a great deal of responsibility.”

“Peter.” Without realizing it his hand reached for his wand, hand wrapping tight around it. They had fought, just hours after finding James and Lily dead and understanding how it happened. He had tracked Peter down and the fact that they were on a muggle street hadn’t mattered. The fact that he had beaten Peter in any duel they'd ever fought hadn’t mattered. All that mattered was that James was dead and Peter had made it happen. Peter, with fear in his eyes. His mate, the Death Eater.

“The Aurors haven’t had any luck tracing him. Some people are arguing that he can’t be found because he’s dead.”

“I didn’t kill him.” They had dueled, and for one moment he thought that maybe in his rage he had killed his former friend, but he’d seen Peter transform too many times to miss the signs. The rat had escaped, leaving behind a finger. His stomach turned knowing that Peter had severed his own flesh. That he had known it would be necessary. 

“I believe Remus is of the same mind on that, and I think we both know what that means.” 

“Remus has gone after him.” Alone, Sirius didn’t add. It should have been the both of them, sharing the weight, but instead Remus was somewhere owls and a Patronus couldn’t find him, tracking down the man who had once been their friend. 

“I believe so.” McGonagall nodded in the direction of her office. “There’s tea and biscuits if you’d like to come with me.”

“Thanks, but I need to get back to Harry.” Even a few months ago the offer would have been something to delight in; he was not one to be offered a biscuit from a professor often. But he needed time alone to take in what he’d learned and figure out what to do next.

“Be well, Mr. Black. And tell Euphemia and Monty I said hello.”

“Yes, professor.” He had to walk out of the castle and down the path past the gate before he was able to apparate. Before he went inside he looked up at the sky just starting to get dark and the waning moon. Somewhere Remus was in a strange land, alone. If he got himself killed hunting Peter Sirius was going to find a resurrection stone to bring him back just so he could be the one to kill him. Damn Remus and his refusal to ask for help or believe that he was worth more than being a sacrificial lamb. And damn himself, for helping Remus to believe he wasn’t worth more.

II

The cottage where Peter had grown up was empty, the dust too thick for anyone to have been there for months, The food in the pantry well past any sell-by date. Remus hadn’t expected Peter to be anywhere so obvious, but he had to rule it out. There was a fort in the woods behind the house that the Aurors wouldn’t have known about. From the crisp packets and empty cans of beans it looked like Peter had stopped by more recently, though not for long. It looked like maybe he had slept there once before moving on.

Peter’s aunt claimed that she hadn’t heard from him in over a year and Remus believed her. After living for so many years with James and Sirius his bullshit detector was refined and he was good at judging lies. Peter didn’t have any more relatives, his parents both being dead. The only person he’d dated seriously since school had ended was Mary McDonald and it was ridiculous to think that she would have anything to do with helping a Death Eater.

Many of the known Death Eaters were already in Azkaban, Aurors working fast in the last weeks. There were others, of course, who had been better about hiding who they were, or claimed that they only acted under the Imperious curse. Remus questioned a few, but didn’t find any sympathy for Peter amoung them. Peter’s actions might have killed James and Lily, but they had also eliminated Voldemort and ended a war that Death Eaters had been certain they were winning. Peter wouldn’t find any aide in that quarter.

Once Remus eliminated any options in England he prepared to search farther afield. Peter had to be hiding somewhere. Remus would find him.

He would start in France, Remus decided, as French was the only language Peter spoke other than English. He’d loved Paris when they all went the summer after graduation. It was as good a place as any to begin.


	4. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius made it through Christmas by focusing on Harry.

“We were talking about getting a Christmas tree this weekend, Siri. What do you think?” Sirius looked up from the banana he was cutting into small pieces for Harry when Effie spoke.

“Christmas?” Time was a strange thing. The pain from losing James felt as if it was still new and an angry red. Surely it could only be days since their death, and yet it felt as if he’d been trying to find Remus for months. In truth James and Lily had been dead for 37 days and Remus had been missing for almost a month, and it was now December.

“Harry will enjoy decorating a tree. He was so little last year but this time he can help with a few of the ornaments.. I’ve already started wrapping presents.” She spoke calmly, but he knew how much it hurt her, planning for a holiday without her son. James had always loved Christmas. Their fifth year they had smuggled in a Christmas tree to the common room so big it bent at the ceiling. Everyone in all seven years had decorated; making a popcorn chain had ended in a popcorn battle that had them finding rogue kernels until March. The tree had been James’ idea.

“Whatever you think best.” He and Remus had the scrawniest tree they could find, the first year they shared a flat. It had bowed under the weight of the ornaments and shed needles so badly that hardly any were left by Christmas. It was his favorite tree ever. There had been another the next year, almost as pathetic because Remus loved the trees that he worried no one else would want. By last year they weren’t sharing a flat anymore and while Sirius bought a tree out of habit he’d never gotten around to decorating it. There hadn’t seemed to be a point.

“Monty could use your help getting the decorations down from the attic. Your old stocking should be up there. We brought Harry's back from…” her voice broke and she took a breath. “We have Harry’s stocking so we can hang them all up.”

“James and Lily would want Harry to have Christmas.” He reached across the breakfast table, touching Effie’s hand with his banana covered fingers.

“They would want Christmas for you too.”

II

Remus spent Christmas in Salzburg, following up a rumor of a sighting. He’d narrowly missed Peter in France, in a small town on the Swiss border known for their cheese. Salzburg was a town that loved Christmas. He wandered the Christmas market, the carols and bright lights accomplishing little other than feeding an acute case of homesickness and a deep loneliness. 

At one stall he found bright colored marionettes shaped like animals. One was a deer with felt antlers, its fur a deep scarlet. Remus brought it with money that was probably better spent on dinner, carrying it until he could find an owl post and send it off with a scribbled note offering a Merry Christmas to Harry. Twice he added a message to Sirius, but both times he crumpled up the paper and started over again. What could he say? There were a million things and none at all that could express how he felt and how much he missed their friendship. How much he missed James. How much he hated Peter and missed him at the same time. How much he wanted to come home but couldn’t, not until he found Peter. Maybe not even then.

Maybe home didn’t exist anymore.

II

Sirius made it through Christmas by focusing on Harry. They decorated the tree and the house, Harry hanging ornaments on anything he could reach including the trunk of the elephant statue. Baking cookies delighted the lad, especially the part where he got to lick the frosting off the cookies. In the yard they decorated a second tree, hanging it with birdseed and sugar water feeders with nuts hung from the lower branches, a veritable feast for the animals. Harry loved to sit at the window and stare out at the tree as squirrels shook the lower branches and birds perched on the higher ones.

A week before Christmas a package arrived from Remus, the message a simple one that was frustrating in its brevity but at least told him that Remus was alright.

“What are you hoping to find under the tree, my boy?” Monty took a walk with him and Harry every morning after breakfast. 

“I don’t need anything.” What could he ask for? He had his freedom, and owed that to the Potters. He wasn’t going to wake on Christmas and find that this nightmare was over and James was still alive. The things he wanted weren’t physical and most weren’t realistic. 

“Christmas isn’t about need. We love you, Sirius. Effie and I are so grateful that even though we’ve lost our James we have you with us.” Monty was quieter these days. He’d always been a bit absent-minded, a bit lost in his own thoughts at times. Sometimes he would dash to the other room and write something down and come back more settled, like he wasn’t quite so overwhelmed by thoughts anymore. It was only in the last few years that he’d stopped going into the office, stopped inventing and creating. Losing James had taken something out of him that was noticeable. Thank goodness Harry was around to make him smile.

“Christmas was never very important in my family. I remember thinking how weird it was that first year of school when James and Remus and Peter were so excited. That Christmas was the first time I’d opened a cracker. Fourth year, when my parents went to the continent for the winter and I was allowed home with James was the first time I had a real Christmas.” His house had been no warmer during Christmas than the rest of the year. There was a tree decorated by someone hired for it, full of glass ornaments that earned a punishment if they were broken. Dinner was a formal affair with business associates and best behavior. Gifts were discouraged and were usually clothing or books. Christmas at the Potters with the cookies and stockings and eating breakfast in their pajamas was like experiencing a culture from another country. 

“All the more reason to celebrate this year, my boy. We have some catching up to do. Besides, it will make Effie happy. She needs something to focus on. Busy hands, and all that.”

“I’ll think of something,” he promised, scooping Harry up and putting him on his shoulders. Effie had two fewer people to shop for this year, he understood. If it made the holiday better for her he would ask for toothpicks and wand conditioner and a spanner set, or anything he could come up that might amuse her. He owed his sanity and any happiness he’d managed to hold onto to the Potters.


	5. 1982

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus settles into a pattern and Sirius settles in as a guardian.

New Years found Remus in Croatia where he missed Peter by a week. Hiding wasn’t something that came naturally to him, at least not in human form, and he’d signed a hotel register P. Worm. The fact that he was on the right train wasn’t a happy thought, but at least it meant he was doing something right.

Croatia was also where he ran out of funds and had to stop for a few weeks, getting a job washing dishes in a muggle restaurant. They served him a pint on New Year’s Eve and wished him a Sretna Nova Godina. As he watched the fireworks in the night sky he thought of home and wondered if Sirius was also looking up. Was Harry looking up at the sky in wonder, excited by the bright lights? Did loud noises scare him? Was he sound asleep?

He stayed at the restaurant until the ninth when he had to leave for an abandoned mine he’d found miles away from town where he could transform in relative safety. He woke up naked and a mile from the mine, a bite mark on his arm that took a week to heal and a long walk back to collect his clothing, but at least he knew he hadn’t hurt anyone.

After Croatia he moved on to Hungary, where he had no luck. Slovakia brought a little success. In a small wizarding community he learned of a pack of animagi that traveled together in animal form, choosing to eschew their human forms. It sounded like the sort of thing Peter might find useful. He also realized that it was February. When he was at school the coming weekend would be a Hogsmead weekend for Valentine's Day. It had always been a stressful trip, the streets decorated with hearts, everyone breaking off into pairs instead of hanging out with friends, Madame Puddifoot’s having a line out of the door. Sirius had dates most years. James took Lily in seventh year, and a few other girl during his time. Even Peter had a date of two for Valentine’s. Remus had never felt comfortable asking anyone. In the early years it hadn't made sense, not when he had such a secret to guard. Later when he was sure he had no interest in girls things were even more complicated. Now Valentine’s Day didn’t mean much to him, but it reminded him that he hadn’t sent anything to Harry since Christmas. He found a book in English in a bookstore, a story about a boy and his dog. The drawing of the pup was black and didn’t look exactly like Padfoot but was close enough to make him smile. He wondered if Sirius still changed into a dog to make Harry laugh. He didn’t ask, just sent the book with a note ‘to Harry from Remus.’

In March he was in Slovenia and sent a little toy drum, the sort of thing that he thought would make Sirius laugh but Lily would have hated.

In April it was Turkey and a simple wooden puzzle for Harry.

In May he had to double back to Slovakia, spending the time between moons living with outcast wizards who Peter had visited twice, and the next month working on a farm. He sent Harry another book, this time about a baby dragon, and a water toy shaped like a fish that he could imagine Sirius charming to move in the water. 

He was in Spain when he looked at a calendar and realize that it was July, and Harry would be turning two soon. He had been there the day Harry was born but had missed his first birthday while he was on assignment. He’d shown up a week later with a gift in hand and had slept on the Potter’s sofa for two nights, taking his turn pacing with Harry when teething made him restless. It had been one of his last visits to see James before they’d gone into hiding. Before everything had changed.

When he was little his mum had written him a letter every year on his birthday. He still had the letter in a box in his bedroom, all the more precious because she was gone and her words were all he had to hold on to. The letters spoke of the day he was born, of the things that made her proud, of her hopes and dreams for him. They never mentioned the fear or the sadness or the pain. 

This time when he sent a gift to Harry he wrote a letter, knowing that it would mean little to the boy now but hoping it might be of some comfort when he got older. He told about the day Harry was born and being scared to hold him because he was so small. He told Harry how beautiful his mum had been and how proud James was to have a kid. How wanted and loved he was. Every child should know that they were wanted as much as Harry had been wanted by his parents.

When he was done he looked at the next piece of paper and thought of another letter he wanted to write. The things he would say to Sirius. The apologies. The loneliness. How he missed Sirius’s laugh and the quirk of his mouth just before he did something ridiculous. How much harder it was to be alone on moon nights and how much colder he was the morning after. Sirius used to cover him with blankets and curl up behind him in the bed. He wanted to tell Sirius about the time he was only three days behind Peter and his heartbeat had all but deafened him. He needed to find Peter but nothing scared him more than thinking about what would happen when he did.

He sent the letter and gift to Harry via owl post, the second letter remaining unwritten.

II

“Pad-foo up?” Harry seemed to have inherited the early bird gene from his mum, and toddled into Sirius’s bedroom a little before seven, tugging on the edge of the blanket for attention. 

“Padfoot is sleeping.” Sirius opened one eye, using it to gauge where Harry was standing and to scoop him up. Sometimes when he was lucky Harry was content to go back to sleep in his godfather’s bed, curled up under the quilt. Today did not seem to be one of those days. Harry did not settle under the blankets but instead kept poking Sirius in the arm. 

“Harry hungry.” Harry poked him in the arm again. “Jelly?”

“I supposed we can manage something.” He ran his fingers through his hair to get rid of the worse of the tangles, then fumbled around on the floor for a t-shirt that didn’t look too bad. “You going to walk, mate, or do you need a ride?”

“Hip-giff,” Harry demanded, reaching towards him with chubby fingers. Sirius laughed and picked him up at his waist, swinging him up in the air.

“Spread your wings like a hippogriff. You’re going to have to fly if you want to reach the kitchen.” they ran out of his room and down the hall. At the banister he stopped and sat, balancing himself with Harry on his lap. He and James used to race down the banisters. He and Harry went down together, though, Harry in his lap and wand at the ready in case he needed to soften the landing.

“Fwy like hip-giff.” Harry raced on his own to the kitchen once they landed. Flapping his arms at his side until he reached his grandma.

“Happy birthday my love.” Euphemia knelt down to greet her grandson with a kiss and a hug. 

“He’s asked for jelly,” Sirius commented as he helped himself to the tea that seemed as if it was always just brewed. He’d been used to coffee, but the chai that Effie served was better and now he was completely spoiled.

“And he shall have as much jelly as he likes.” She had a piece of toast ready, the butter melted, just waiting for Harry to decide if today was a ‘red’ day or an ‘orange’ one. He was very fussy about the color of his jelly and the wrong one meant he wouldn’t eat at all. “A package came for Harry already this morning. Monty brought it in when he left for his walk. It’s from Remus.”

Sirius didn’t need to see a name, just the distinctive handwriting, lined up perfectly in neat letters as if Remus had long ago decided that if he couldn’t control anything else at least he could control his writing. He took a deep breath. Every package from Remus was a sign that in that moment, at least, he was safe and alive. Pinned to the wall in his room he had a map, the origin of each note marked and dated. Sometimes he had a mad hare about following that trail and dragging Remus back to England but he couldn’t make Remus go anywhere he didn’t want to be. Remus had always been stubborn.

“He’s in Spain now, or was two days ago.” He unfolded the paper, expecting the same sort of ‘to Harry, from Remus’ sort of message he always sent, and was surprised to find that this time it was a proper letter.

“Effie you have to read this.” He wiped away a tear, knowing that Effie would need a handkerchief, He would read the letter to Harry later and then tuck it away from when the boy was older and could understand what the words meant.

“I wish he would come home.” Effie wiped away her own tears, handing him back the letter. “It would be good for him and for all of us.”

Sirius couldn’t disagree.


	6. A Journey of the Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we finally get the boys both in the same place!

Remus settled into a pattern, working for a few weeks before a moon, finding someplace safe to transform, then spending the next month following clues to track down Peter who seemed to be getting better at hiding. Every time he was in a new place he found something little to send to Harry, doing his best to guess what a boy his age might like. He included a note with each one, not a letter like on his birthday, but a little bit about where he was and what he had seen. 

The last week of October he spent in a rented room, skipping far too many meals and sleeping for most of the hours when he wasn’t drinking. The calendar in his mind kept counting down to the last day of the month. On the day itself Remus got as drunk as he was able and passed out. The hangover the next day felt like it might shatter his brain but it was a better alternative than thinking too much on the day. The earth had completely circled the sun without James now.

Shortly before the new year, signs pointed to Peter taking a boat to South America, and Remus boarded a ship to Brazil, making sure the ship would dock well before the full moon. He spent most of 1983 in the Americas, sending Harry a birthday gift from Canada and a Christmas present from Arizona which was the most un-Christmasy place he’d ever been. The motel he was staying at had a cactus with tinsel on it, and Remus was tempted to transform it into a tree because it looked so very depressing.

The closest he came was the Amazon, where a shaman from a local tribe had spoken to Peter only hours earlier and had promised that with the right magic he could restore a missing finger. Remus waited for three days, but Peter never returned. Perhaps he knew he was being tracked. Perhaps, and more likely, the idea of the ritual had made him think twice. Peter had always been squeamish with blood. Remus still didn’t understand how he’d managed to cut off a finger.

“You could stay here. The days until the moon sinks into your bones grow short. We could show you how to clear your heart and your mind. Not to resist, but to accept.” Tëco tapped his own heart. “There is peace to be found even when the moon is round.”

“You are kind.” Remus couldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t curious. There was magic that was far removed from what he has learned at Hogwarts, and he felt as if his Defensc classes barely scratched the surface compared to what he’d learned the last years. Not even their Order meetings covered a tenth of what he knew now. If there is a way to control the monster within it might lie with these people. Peace was another matter. He couldn’t find it until he found Peter. Until he understood how their friendship had turned to betrayal and murder. Maybe if he could figure out how things fell apart he could hope to put them together again. If he could forgive Peter maybe one day he could forgive himself. “I have a path already that is mine to follow.” 

“Follow with your heart.” Tëco offered him a feather, touching it to his chest. “You are welcome to return if your feet bring you this way again.”

“Your invitation is an honor.” Bowing didn’t seem to be the thing to do, nor shaking hands, so Remus pressed the feather against his chest and waved his farewell.

II

A month before Harry’s fourth birthday they had a scare. Sirius and Harry were taking one of their afternoon walks with grandpa when Monty collapsed. There was no warning, just a sentence that started and never finished as Monty started to fall to the ground. Fortunately, Sirius’s reflexes were quick enough that he was caught before his head could hit the statue of a lion.

“Grandpa’s playing a game of pretend,” Sirius lied to Harry, trying to keep the terror from his voice. “Go get Nani and tell her to come out so we can all play a game.”

When Harry was gone Sirius cursed the fact that his healing knowledge was so spare. A bleeding cut he could handle, but he didn’t dare risk even a basic diagnostic spell. The best he could do was transform a leaf into a pillow and try to keep Monty comfortable. 

“We need you to be okay.” The summer day was warm and thick with humidity but Sirius shivered. A great deal of his world the past years had been Monty and Effie and Harry. He didn’t get out much. In all honestly there weren’t that many people he wanted to see. Most of his friends were gone now. He wrote to Remus but didn’t have a way to send the letters. Sometimes Effie pushed him out of the house and he had a drink in the pub in Diagon Alley, but it was rare that he stayed long enough to see anyone. He had Harry and he had James’ parents. He needed to keep them all safe.

When Harry ran back, looking delighted, Effie followed. Sirius could tell the moment she saw her husband, her face going ashen. 

“I don’t know,” he explained, telling her briefly what had happened. “I’m taking him to St. Mungo’s.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I drop off Harry.” Effie held her grandson tightly. Sirius took a moment to kiss her on the middle of her forehead.

“I won’t let him out of my sight.” He picked up Monty and took a deep breath before apparating.

It took two days before they could breathe deeply, relief leaving them drained. Monty was awake, though he tired easily and his recovery would be a long one. In all honesty he would never quite recover, his heart weaker than it had been, but he had a few more years left. Not enough to see Harry off to school, but enough for a few more birthdays.

The next morning Sirius was tasked with picking up Harry, as Effie didn’t want to leave her husband's side. It was a strange thing to find himself on the front steps of McGonagall’s house, tapping on the door. He’d never really thought about McGonagall having a house; she just existed at Hogwarts, linked with his memories of the place.

“I hope your presence here is a good sign, Mr. Black.” McGonagall greeted him at the door wearing the least formal robes he’d seen her in, not counting the one time he and his mates might have forced an evacuation of the school in the middle of the night their third year and everyone had been in pajamas.

“Monty’s recovering, thank Merlin. The healers think he should be able to go home in another day or so.” Sirius looked around the room he’d been led into, a sitting room with large west-facing windows and pillows that looked soft and well used. It amused him to wonder if she only used them in human form or if she liked to curl up in the sun as a cat. Did she ever find that it made it easier to sometimes take a break from human emotions, or was that just him? He’d had to reveal that he was an animagi to the ministry, to explain how Peter had escaped, but they’d never talked about it.

“Mia must be so relieved. As are you, I’m sure. You look dead on your feet, sit down and we’ll have some tea. Harry’s taking a nap but we made some shortbread yesterday.” There was a tea set laid out already, with two cups, and it was like he was sixteen again and in his head of house’s office speaking about leaving home and living with the Potters. Detention assignments didn’t warrant tea and biscuits.

“I hope he hasn’t been a bother.” He was taking a morning nap, apparently, something he could rarely get the lad to do.

“If I could survive seven years of you and your friend you can’t imagine that two days with a single child is beyond my abilities.” She nudged the biscuit plate towards him. “Eat, Sirius. I promise I made sure that salt was not used in place of the sugar.”

“Thank you.” She raised a single eyebrow and he had no doubt that she was remembering a memorable tea when all the cakes and biscuits at the Slytherin table had suffered the ‘mistake’ of being salted instead of sugared. It was two days after they had blatantly cheated at quidditch. Though she couldn’t approve of pranks, of course, there was little that McGonagall hated more than cheating. It was pretty clear who had altered the feast but no one had been punished. “Effie wanted me to pass on her thanks as well.”

“That’s hardly necessary. I’m glad to help a friend.” She hesitated for a moment. “Speaking of friends have you heard from Remus lately?”

“He was in Malaysia a few weeks ago, according to a postcard he sent Harry.” It was a small comfort that there was no longer an ocean between them. Fourteen months on another continent had worried him. Neither brooms nor apparating worked for such distances, and floo passes for such a distance were hard to get. Muggle transportation was best, but even in the best scenario that would mean a day of travel if Remus ever gave a hint that help was needed.

“I wouldn’t have thought that Mr. Pettigrew was clever enough to stay ahead for so long. He always seemed to rely on the rest of you so much, and his grades were never particularly extra ordinary.”

“He’s a rat, professor. If there’s one thing rats are good at, it's hiding in the dark.” Peter never had James’s charm and fearlessness or Remus’s clever brain and dry wit or his own talents at understanding spellwork. He’d been cheerful and funny, though, and generous with what he had. Most of all he was loyal to his friends. At least he’d seemed to be.

“You’ve been out of school for some time, Sirius. In a few years, you and I will be talking about young Mr. Potter’s education. I think you can call me Minerva.”

“I don’t think my brain can handle that, professor.” Very little remained constant in life, but the fact that she was and would always be Professor McGonagall to him was one of them.


	7. The Patronus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After two years, nine months, four weeks and a handful of hours Peter and Remus are both back in England and everything changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited to get to the point where the boys are in the same room.

It was September first, 1984 when he came face to face with Peter in England. In two months it would be three years since James and Lily had died. Not far away children were boarding the Hogwarts Express for the start of school, just as they did thirteen years ago, the day they met. 

The universe was an ironic place.

“I could make you come out, Peter, but I’d rather you did it yourself.” He held his wand, a spell on his lips that he’d practiced a thousand times in the last three years. Without a wand Peter in rat form wouldn’t be able to block the spell and he’d be forced into human form. He didn’t want to use it. The Peter he knew would at least look him in the eye.

“Moony.” The furry shape grew and twisted, a transformation that Remus had envied more than once. Being an animagi did not carry with it the same pain as being a werewolf, and meant infinite more control. In the space of a few heartbeats Peter stood before him, the missing finger far from the only change. His skin was almost translucent from a lack of sun, his hair matted and greasy, his eyes dull. The best that could be said was that he’d escaped the grey hairs that Remus had already started acquiring in school, and which were much more obvious now.

“Don’t,” he rasped, the nickname making his ears hurt. Moony belonged to Prongs and Wormtail and Padfoot. One for all and all for one. He couldn’t be Moony when Prongs was dead and Wormtail was cowering before him. 

“Remus,” Peter said, still standing half in shadow in the alleyway. It was strange, that in three years it was the first time Peter had returned to England. “I know you’re upset but…”

“Upset?” His hand shook, weariness sunken into his bones. For three years the only thing forcing one foot in front of the other was the drive to find Peter. He’d fought through moons and illness and sometimes nights where he couldn’t afford anything but a cold doorway to sleep in, and he was on the verge of collapse. The past few months especially hadn’t been kind to him. “I need to understand, Peter.”

“You know what Voldemort was like, Remus. The power he had. The pain he could inflict.” Petter crept around the edges of the alley, never coming out fully in the light. Remus held up his wand, ready for a body binding curse or any other he might need to keep Peter from running again.

“I know what James was like. Our friend. You know that he would have died himself rather than betray you to anyone.” He had almost died once, in fifth year when Snape had come so close to facing the werewolf. During the war there were too many almosts to count. He had been so brave, only hiding in the end because it meant protecting Lily and Harry. Even then it was only the prophecy that had convinced him to go into hiding. “How long, Peter? We knew there was a spy for at least a year, but how long before that?”

“Does it matter? It’s over now.” 

“You drank with us when we learned that Marleen was dead. Did you tell them where she would be? Frank and Alice had to be committed to St Mungo’s, probably for the rest of their lives because they were tortured to the point of losing their minds. Were you there, watching? How many people did you betray, Peter? How many lives ended because of you?” He’d tried to puzzle it all together a thousand times but none of it made sense. Peter had been there from the first day of school. He’d accepted Remus’s secret. Had spent a month with a mandrake leaf in his mouth to become an animagi. He’d been there for a thousand late nights and hundreds of secret trips around the school. They had stood together in battles and at graves.

“I survived. It was war and people were dying and I knew that I was little more than target practice. I was alone with little chance of a future.” His voice was little more than a whisper. 

“You had us.”

“James had Lily. You and Sirius were as thick as thieves. Can you honestly tell me I was anything other than the extra one? Once Lily said yes to James I could see the writing on the wall.”

“Please tell me you’re not saying it started in school.” Remus stared at him, horrified. If he’d started spying in school that meant almost four years of being their friend and working against them. Accepting Order assignments and passing them on to Death Eaters.

“I ran into Mulciber during winter hols that last year. At the time I thought it was an accident but…”

“Stop.” He couldn’t listen to any more. He’d been forced to accept that Peter was a spy, that he had been the cause of James and Lily dying. It was a pain that he carried every day. To know that the betrayal ran so deep, however, caused the foundation of everything he thought he knew to crumble. “I have to take you back with me, Peter. You have to stand up for what you did.”

“I would never survive Azkaban, Remus. You know that. I can’t.” His voice turned almost into a squeak, something they would have teased him about once. Remus felt like he couldn’t catch a deep breath of air. “The war is over, and there’s nothing else I can do. I’m alone. Just let me go and you’ll never have to think about me again.”

“I can’t.” He would never be able to trust that Harry was safe if Peter didn’t account for what he’d done. Or Sirius. And they needed a full reckoning of what he’d done. “I’ll try and keep you from Azkaban, if I can, because that’s what a real Marauder would do for a friend. But you have to turn yourself in, Peter. You know that, don’t you?”

“I never meant for James to get hurt, Moony. I never did. The Master only wanted the child.”

“His name is Harry and you were his uncle.” Remus took a breath, ready to cast a spell. Peter wouldn’t come in on his own, too much of a coward. He could see that too clearly.

Peter, for the first time ever, beat him to the punch. Hit by the full force of a _crucio_ he doubled over, hitting the side of his head against a rubbish bin. Not even his transformations compared to the pain flooding his body as the curse touched every cell. 

“I’m sorry, Remus.” The stabbing and twisting pain ended, leaving waves of pain washing over him as he tried to stand again, trying to focus enough to cast a spell. Perhaps if he was better rested, better fed, and not bleeding he would have managed it, but before he could even form the thought Peter was fading, once more becoming the rat.

He had failed.

“I’m sorry.” There was nothing happy in the moment, but he used the last of his focus to conjure a memory, watching the silver mist shimmer at the end of his wand. He didn’t even see the patronus materialze before he blacked out.

II

Remus had always been clever about tricky spells, especially when the wand work was so touchy. He was often the first to puzzle things out, sometimes getting a wild hare about learning something and focusing on it to the exclusion of even assignments until he’d gotten it down. In fourth year it had been the Patronus charm, and he’d spent weeks working it out until he could get an incorporeal one. That was never good enough for their Moony. He’d spent another week getting it to work completely.

When a silver wolf had pranced around he’d stared at it in horror and had broken the spell, refusing to cast it again for a month. He’d always hated that his Patronus took the form of a wolf, and tried never to use it. He’d learned to manipulate the charm into something of a shield. In all the time he’d known Remus Sirius had only seen the full patronus a few times.

He would recognize it anywhere. On a lazy afternoon playing on the floor with Harry the patronus burst into the room. Sirius’s first reaction was a grin; Remus had to be in England at least if he was sending a patronus. After only a second the grin faded. Remus was in trouble.

“I have to go to him.” 

“Of course you do, love. We’ll be fine here.” Effie put down the book she’d been reading. “We have plenty of space here, if you can convince him to come.”

“I’m not giving him a choice.” It had been almost three years, and he didn’t care what Remus had found about Peter. He didn’t care about Remus’ infernal martyr complex. He wanted his friend.

Tracing the magical signature of a patronus was a skill he was good at, thanks to his years in the Order, and he followed it to northern England, near the Scottish border. He found himself behind a shop in a small muggle village. There was a single car parked on the street but nothing else to see.

“Moony?” He called out, but only the silence answered. The hairs stuck up on the back of his neck, everything telling him that he needed to find Remus now.

“Remus.” He ran around the block, ignoring the people staring at him. Nothing. Halfway down the street half hidden by a tree was an ally between two buildings. He had to fight an instinct to run, instead taking out his wand once he was out of view of the main street. 

“Moony, it’s me. Talk to me please. Now is not the time to be your stoic stubborn self.” Halfway down the alley it became clear that Remus wasn’t going to be doing any talking. He was crumpled on the ground, face far too pale and a single line of blood running down his temple. His heart is in his throat until he sees the slight rise and fall of a chest. He was breathing.

“I can’t leave you alone for a minute.” He didn’t have time to look beyond the blood and see what else had changed, but as he picked up Remus he could tell that he was a good two stones lighter than he should be.

He apparated to almost the same spot he had a few months before with Monty, walking into St. Mungo’s with Moony in his arms. There had been a time when Lily had wanted to end up at St. Mungo’s, but she’d never had a chance to finish her training as a healer. 

“I need help.” Reluctantly he relinquished Remus when they brought out a stretcher, but it didn’t stop him from following them.

“You can wait out here.”

“Thanks for the offer, mate, but I’m going with him.” After three years there was no way he was letting Moony out of his sight. Besides, he didn’t entirely trust the place when it came to their treatment of werewolves. He was going to make sure there was no silver used, no tests on the endurance of dark creatures. 

“Sir...”

“Why are you wasting your time arguing with me when he needs your help? Fix him.” The next hour passed in something of a blur. He kept to the farthest corner of the room, as he’d promised the second healer that tried to make him leave. The blood was easily washed away, but there was a gash that remained, and apparently no one thought it was priority enough to heal. There was a blood draw after Sirius had verified that there was no silver in the needle; any metal made him nervous when it came to Remus. Once, a year after they had graduated, there had been an incident with tweezers made of silver to remove debris that had gotten under Moony’s skin. Sirius still maintained that the twat had done it on purpose once he’d learned that he had a werewolf as a patient.

“We need to run some tests, Mr. Black, and Mr. Lupin needs some rest. When you come back in the morning…”

“I’m not leaving.” Sirius crossed his arms, ready to argue the point, to use his family name or the Potter’s if necessary, or to offer payment.

“After visiting hours only family are allowed.”

“I am family.” He would fight anyone who tried to say differently. “And I’ll leave when he does.”

“I’ll have to talk to my supervisor.” The young man looked nervous about telling him no.

“You do that.” He settled himself in the chair next to the bed, ignoring the healer-in-training until he left. It was the first time he really got a chance to look at Remus without anyone blocking his view. His hair was longer, brushing his shoulders; almost the same brown with hints of gold and rust but now there were streaks of silver instead of a few stray hairs. It would look distinguished if he was a few decades older but looked strange on a man of twenty-four. There were at least a few new scars that he could see, one across the bridge of his nose, on his cheek, and another on his forearm. Sirius wouldn’t be surprised if there were more that his robes hid, as tattered and worn as they were. Mostly he just looked worn down, like after a really bad moon but this time it was any number of bad moons, one after the other.

“I’m sorry, sir, but the rules…” Someone walked into the room, shoulders back and an air of authority preceding them. A moment later they relaxed. “Merlin, it’s been an age, Sirius. What have you been up to?”

“Not much.” He didn’t like to advertise that he was raising James and Lily’s son, not even to former classmates he might have snogged a time or two. Justin Pomby had been a Hufflepuff in their same year; not someone he had spent a lot of time with but they had shared some of their classes and spent a few educational hours behind greenhouse two. “At the moment I hope you’re not here to tell me to leave.”

“Is that Remus then?” Justin crossed over to the bed, taking Remus’s wrist between his fingers. “I was coming in to kick you out, of course. Simon said that some stubborn bloke was lying to him about being family of one of our patients. Knowing it’s you, though, changes everything. I’m not naff enough to try and make you leave, not when it’s Remus.”

“Thank you.” He collapsed back in the chair. Glad that there was one battle he wouldn’t have to fight.

“There’s family and then there’s _Family_ , right? I think I heard that Remus lost his parents a few years ago.” Justin was wise enough not to say anything about Sirius’s own family. Or about James.

“Yeah.” He hadn’t been there when John Lupin had died. Things had already started going so wonky then.

“I’ll leave a note in his file so no one else pushes the issue. Can’t imagine what kind of pranks you might try to pull around here, if you’re bored and stuck out in the hall.” Justin winked at him. “Just promise you’ll let us know when he wakes up, yeah? It would be good to get a restorative draught into him as soon as we can.”

“I promise.”


	8. Waking up is Hard to Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sure, you’re completely fine other than the gash on your head, some muggle thing they call dingy fever, and what was it that Justin called it? The compounded effects of chronic malnutrition you bloody git.”

His head was throbbing, but that wasn’t the strange thing about waking up. What was weird was the fact that he felt warm down to his bones and was lying on something that was soft without springs in strange places or a bit of wood running down the middle. When he opened his eyes he found himself looking at a white ceiling and the tops of pale blue walls. It wasn’t a room that he recognized. When he rolled his head the pain in his head was nothing to the pain in his heart. Sleeping in the chair next to him was Sirius. He looked good. More than good, actually, but then Sirius always looked amazing. He was sporting a bit of a beard, which was new, and the leather that he’d worn around his neck was gone, but otherwise he looked a great deal like he did in Remus’ mind.

That didn’t explain where he was or why Sirius was in the same room with him. The last he remembered he was traveling south from Scotland after a brief check-in with Dumbledore. He’d heard something about a little town on the border and then…

“Fuck.” Peter. He’d seen Peter, been close enough to touch him. His insatiable need to  _ understand _ had been too overwhelming and he’d let Peter escape.

“You’re awake.” Sirius had never been a deep sleeper. Apparently that hadn’t changed. Grey eyes peered at him; his Sirius reading skills were rusty enough that he couldn’t quite read what they said.

“Padfoot.” He hadn’t said the name for ages, but he’d thought it every day. A thousand times he’d been tempted to write a letter, but what could he possibly say?

“Don’t talk, Moony. If you open your mouth you’re going to apologize or offer an excuse or say something stupid and I’m going to want to hit you. I might not be a very honorable person but at least I don’t hit someone when they are down.” Sirius was glaring at him, but that look he recognized. It was his ‘damn it how dare you make me feel things and worry about you’ glare, and it almost made him cry at the familiarity of it.

“I  _ am _ sorry.” There were a thousand things he had to apologize for, from failing to bring Peter in to lies told half a decade ago.

“I’m supposed to let the healer know you’re up so they can bring you a restorative potion.” Sirius ignored him completely, which was probably for the best. It was something they could talk about if they had time. Remus made a face thinking about the potion. He hated restorative draughts and pepper up potions, they always left his heart racing and his senses over sensitive. Sirius must have seen because he glared again. “You’ll drink whatever they give you, mate. I’m not helping you vanish this one.”

“I’m fine.” The headache would probably go away soon and he could leave. Though Poppy had been a kind person he had a general distrust of most healers. It wasn’t completely unwarranted.

“Sure, you’re completely fine other than the gash on your head, some muggle thing they call dingy fever, and what was it that Justin called it? The compounded effects of chronic malnutrition you bloody git.”

“I’m pretty sure the healer didn’t use ‘bloody git.’” Remus said dryly. “And he’s making it sound worse than it is. He’d not taking the werewolf constitution into account. You know I can take a lot more than a bump on the head.”

“Handy, since I might be tempted to give you a matching one on the other side. What in Merlin’s sake were you thinking? Running around the world on a fool’s mission pushing yourself to a breaking point when you could have been here.”

“I found him.” Remus looked down at the blankets on the bed, his fingers nervously moving across the edge of the sheets.

“I know. There was an auror here earlier. They’ve had a track on Peter’s wand for ages but this was the first time they’ve gotten a hit on it being used in the UK.” Sirius covered one of Remus’ hands with his own, stilling their movement. “They will find him this time.”

“He's terrified of Azkaban, Sirius. If the aurors try to take him in I don’t know what he’ll do.” With his free hand he touched the tender skin at the side of his head. “I tried to bring him in so he could tell his side.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about his side. James and Lily are dead because of him. You're in hospital. And we don’t know what else he did when he was spying.”

“He was our friend.” He almost envied Sirius his ability to see everything so black or white, not that he’d ever dare to use that very bad pun on Sirius. Even standing in the alley and understanding all that Peter had done there was still a part of him that saw Wormtail. A part of him that wanted to cling to the friend that had supported him from the time they were eleven. Peter brought him chocolate and bad jokes every morning after the full moon when they were at school.

“Anything in him that was our friend rotted away a long time ago. If they bring him in or he does something that leaves them no choice I don’t care. He deserves Azkaban.”

“I’m not sure anyone deserves Azkaban.” He’d come across a dementor or two, one in the forests of Romania. Even with a patronus and a bar of chocolate it had taken him a day to recover from their meeting. It seemed inhuman to subject people to that all day.

“I need to see about that draught for you.” It was a common technique of Sirius’s, to change the subject completely when he didn’t want to talk anymore. Remus couldn’t blame him.

“I’ll take it, but then I’m getting out of here.” He looked around the nondescript room and wondered where they might have put his wand.

“If the healers say it’s alright you’re coming home with me. If they say you need to stay then you’re staying even if I have to use a body binding hex. And you know I’ll do it, too.”

“That’s not necessary. I can get a room.” He could probably afford a few nights at the Three  Broomsticks, though he needed to start looking for a job again. Hopefully the wound on his head would heal quickly so he wouldn’t look quite so much like an idiot at interviews. One summer he’d scooped ice cream for Florian, and might be able to see if the old gentleman was looking for any help with the holidays approaching.

“You can have your choice of two of them. One faces the front of the house but it’s next to Harry’s room and he’s an early riser. The other one faces the kitchen garden and might suit you better.” 

“I don’t want to be an…”

“If the word imposition or bother comes out of your mouth I really will hit you. Effie and Monty want to see you, Harry will love to finally re-meet his uncle Remus and say thank you for all the gifts, and I-” Sirius had to look away for a moment, turning to face the empty part of the room. Remus stayed completely still. “It’s just us, Moony. We’re the only two left and it’s been three years. Whatever it was you thought you had to do was over now. You’re home and you’re staying.”

“I missed you too, Padfoot.” It was a beginning.

II

“Staying one more night isn’t going to kill you Moony.” Justin had, reluctantly, given the go-ahead for Remus to leave as long as he promised a follow up in three days. He left with a small box of potions and instructions on when to take them.

“No, but it might get me arrested when I start hexing everyone that passes my door.” Stubborn as ever, Remus was out of bed with his wand in hand. Sirius snatched it from him. 

“You’re riding side-along. Last thing we need is you splinching yourself or getting lost.” Not that Remus had ever splinched, to his knowledge. He’d passed his apparating test on his first try, unlike poor Peter who… Fuck, he didn’t want to think about Peter but he was ineradicably linked to their shared past. “Ready?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Sure, we could always go check you back into a room here.” Sirius smirked, knowing that short of massive bleeding Remus would say no. Hell, even with massive bleeding Remus would probably still refuse. He’d taken Remus to St. Mungos twice, and both times his mate had been unconscious. “Hold on.”

A moment later they were in the garden, just a few steps from the back door. Harry, who had been in the greenhouse with his grandmother, ran out to greet them. “You were gone forever and ever.”

“Not quite that long, sprog.” He picked Harry up, gladly accepting an enthusiastic hug and returning it. “I brought you a present, though.”

“Is it a dragon’s egg?”

“I think you’re a bit young for that, but this is even better. I’ve brought you an Uncle Remus.” He looked over at Remus who was looking at him in shock. No, looking at Harry. Of course he was. Sirius had seen Harry every day for three years. Remus hadn’t seen him since he was a year old.

“He looks so much like James.” Harry’s hair was the same wild and thick black that James had inherited from his mother. Really it was only the color of his eyes that were startling Lily. That and his sass.

“Remus from the map?” Harry asked, looking back at Remus with curiosity.

“Yup.” To his amusement Harry, never shy around anyone, leaped out of his arms at Remus. Thankfully Moony’s reflexes were quick enough to catch him.

“Do you want to see my broom?”

“He sounds like James too. Merlin.” Remus swayed a little, and Sirius remembered that they’d only left St. Mungo’s a few minutes ago and Remus should be in bed, or at least sitting down. He picked up Harry and set him down on the ground.

“Go tell Nani that I’m home and that we have a guest for tea. Remus has been ill and needs some biscuits and a rest.” He watched Harry run back to the greenhouse. “Sometimes I forget how much he looks like James, because he’s just Harry. And then sometimes I see an old picture or he makes this expression and it’s a punch to the gut how much they look alike.”

“You’re doing well with him. He looks happy.”

“I have Effie and Monty, thank Merlin. It’s not just me. I would have been rubbish on my own.” He doesn’t like to think about what would have happened without James’ parents. Would he have even been around to raise Harry? What would have happened to the lad otherwise? The only relative he had was Petunia and Lily would come back from beyond if that woman ever had custody of her son.

“You would have figured it out, Pads. You don’t give up on the people that matter.”

“Bullshit. I gave up on Reggie and look what happened to him. I let you pull away and didn’t do anything to stop it. Hell, I did what I could to push you even farther.”

“You had your reasons and we can talk about that later. I think I’d like to sit now.” His voice was wobbly. Conversations about why things had gone so badly would have to wait.

“There’s a fire in the library. You can take a nap before tea.”

“I’m not tired,” Remus said with a yawn that called him a liar. He held out all of five minutes once he was on the sofa in front of the fire, before falling asleep.


	9. Settling Inn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Of course we can. Just so happens we have some chocolate ones today. They’re Moony’s favorite.”
> 
> “The moon is coming for tea?” Harry ran for the window, looking out at the sky where the sun was still shining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is a bad joke/pun/double entendre I couldn't resist. I only mention in because I want to make it clear it's not a mistake.

When Remus woke he found that Harry was on the carpet near him, playing quietly with a toy dragon that he’d sent for Harry’s birthday and a stuffed cat. From the whispered conversation between them, it seemed that the cat and the dragon were friends. When Harry called the cat ‘Minnie’ he had to laugh.

“You've got a boo boo on your head.” Harry abandoned his toys, coming over to stand at the edge of the sofa. “Did Padfoot kiss it to make it better?”

“That’s not a bad idea, Harry. I should try that.” Sirius leaned in the doorway, the grin on his face just short of laughing.

“Try it, Pads, and I’ll show you some of the new hexes I’ve learned.” If his cheeks were colored at all he hoped it might be assumed to be from the fire or a fever. The last thing he needed was Sirius guessing that the idea of kissing him wasn’t a threat at all. “There’s a hair sheering one you might particularly appreciate.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He sat himself on the arm of the sofa near Remus’s feet.

“Harry, don’t you think Padfoot would look good without any hair?” The pain of it was that he would, of course. He looked good with purple hair and with a mohawk, and even oddly alluring the time he’d managed to get his hands on McGonagall’s hat and had paraded around in it.

“No,” the boy said, shaking his head. “That’s silly.”

“That’s my lad.” Sirius smiled in triumph.

“Can we have biscuits now? You said when Remus was awake we could.” 

“Of course we can. Just so happens we have some chocolate ones today. They’re Moony’s favorite.”

“The moon is coming for tea?” Harry ran for the window, looking out at the sky where the sun was still shining. 

“Not the moon. Moony is a name for Remus, just like my name is Sirius but you call me Padfoot, and I call you dragon breath when you don’t brush your teeth.” Sirius scooped Harry up, lifting him to his shoulders. “You alright to get up on your own, Moony?”

“I’m fine.” To prove it he stood and was glad when he didn’t wobble at all. Sirius gave him a look, judging him for the use of ‘fine’ he was certain. It was a phrase he abused but it was better than saying ‘I’m sore and feeling at sixes and sevens thank you for asking.’ “The promise of chocolate is a great restorative. Much better than a pepper up potion.”

“I’m surprised that the healer’s tests on your blood didn’t come back 113% cocoa.” Sirius, at Harry’s demand for ‘fast’ ran ahead to the kitchen. Remus was left to walk at a slower pace, for the first time really taking in his surroundings. He’d stayed at the Potter house as a student, sometimes for a weekend, a few times for a week during the summer. The year before their final year at Hogwarts after Sirius had left his ‘family’ he’d stayed a whole month almost. The place looked the same in many ways, if one didn’t take into account the signs of a child living in the house now. Unlike his parents’ home which was surly dusty by now and shabby, probably musty from lack of use the Potter home was always warm and inviting. 

“We are so glad you are finally here. It’s been too long, Remus.” Like her home, Euphemia Potter looked much like his memory of her. She wore robes the same color as saffron and her feet were bare. There were perhaps a few more wrinkles around her eyes and a little more white in her hair, but the kindness in her voice was the same.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Potter. Sirius insisted that I stay for a few days and I’m grateful for it.” James had inherited his height from his father; Euphemia didn’t quite come up to his chin when she hugged him.

“None of this Mrs. Potter business. It’s Effie.” She reached up to gently touch the bandage on his temple, and he could almost swear it felt better. “You are welcome here as long as you like, and we hope it’s more than a few days, isn’t that right Monty?”

“It’s been too long since we’ve seen you, m’boy. Stay as long as you like, we have plenty of room.” James’s father was at the table with a cup of tea, looking a little more slight than Remus remembered. His hair was completely white, his shoulders no longer as broad. His eyes were just as bright and friendly.

“Our Sirius could use the company as well,” Euphemia interjected. “He sees too much of the two of us and Harry, and not enough people his own age.

“Remus isn’t going anywhere except back to St Mungo's in a few days for a follow-up, and maybe down to the pub once we’re certain that bump on his head didn’t rattle his brain.” 

“I have to go get my things. I was staying at an inn.” Inn was a generous term for the room he’d rented at the back of a pub. Making his money stretch, though, hardly allowed for the Savoy.

“I’ll pop out and get them. You’re meant to be recovering from that dinky thing.” Sirius paused to wipe a little chocolate of Harry’s face, and Remus felt his breath catching. It was the most domestic thing he’d seen, speaking so clearly of Sirius as a parent. James had done the same thing when Harry had first started with solid foods. Harry wasn’t the only person who reminded him of their lost friend.

“Dengue,” he corrected, not that it mattered. “And I’m…

“Fine. I know. You’re bloody brilliant. Now sit down and eat something before you fall over.” Sirius pointed to the chair next to him, and Remus obligingly sat down, finding a plate of biscuits and a cup of tea ready for him. The tea already had cream and honey added, just the way he liked.

II

When he gave the owner of the pub some paper muggle money equivalent to a few galleons he didn’t question Sirius’ right to enter someone else’s room. The pub was a worn down thing that looked like only age and dust were holding it up, and the room where Remus had left his things was only twice as large as the bed itself. His ‘things’ consisted of a book on the pillow of the bed and a battered leather case with the initials RJL that James had given as a gift for Remus’ seventeenth. Sirius was well glad to be away from the depressing place, not even stopping back up front to tell the proprietor that he was leaving.

“The room you used to use is Harry’s now.” He found Remus on the upper landing, leaning against the banister. He straightened immediately when Sirius appeared, as if he didn’t need the assistance. He always was bloody stubborn. Sirius could tell he was looking at James’ door. Sirius had spent three years trying to avoid seeing it. “I’m in the same room and Jamie’s room is storage now. Everything we could save from Godric’s Hollow is in there, for when Harry gets older if he wants any of it. There are still two rooms for you to choose from.”

“I’ll take the garden view.” Remus nodded towards the last room to the right, on the other side of James’ childhood room. The other room had been Peter’s when he’d visited.

“Just a warning Harry can and will open all the doors so you’ll want to have a charm on your door if you don’t want him wandering in. He will want to come visit you.” Sirius opened the door. The room was done in greens and browns, but instead of reminding Sirius of Slytherin it looked more like the echo of a forest. Until a few years ago it had been Effie and Monty’s room, but Monty found it easier to not deal with the stairs every day. It was a thousand times nicer than the crap place Remus had been staying. 

“I wouldn’t mind. He’s a good lad.”

“He’s the best.” Not that he was biased, of course, but Harry was James and Lily and yet completely his own person and the best thing in Sirius’ life for the past three years. He set Remus’ case on the ground. “You’ve been traveling pretty light.”

“Makes it easier to move around. I can’t exactly lug a trunk with me everywhere. I left most of my things in Wales.”

“I could pick them up for you as well.” He checked on the old farmhouse every few months, making sure it hadn’t fallen down or anything, but mostly looking for signs that Remus had been there. He never saw any.

“I’m not moving in Sirius.” Remus sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing the back of his neck in that way that usually meant he had a headache. “I’ll need to find a job, a place of my own. It’s stretching the bonds of kindness too far to stay here.”

“When will you get it through your thick skull that people actually want you around? Do you know how many times I was tempted to track you down and drag you back here? Three years, Remus, and the only time I knew you were even alive was when you sent something to Harry.” It had been seventy-two days, one time, between posts and they had been some of the longest days of his life until a pair of leather moccasins had arrived from the Americas.

“I had to do something, Padfoot. I couldn’t bring James and Lily back, but I could find Peter. I could make sure he wasn’t a threat to Harry. And I didn’t know…” Remus looked down, his head bowed. “Things between us weren’t exactly in the best of places.”

“If you don’t mind I think this conversation might go better with a couple of fire whiskeys.” The year before the war ended had been a dark one, full of funerals and mistrust. Remus had been missing more often then he’d been around, and he was tight-lipped about where he’d been. Even after all this time he still didn’t know what Dumbledore had him doing.

“I’m under strict orders not to drink with a head injury, and as much as you know I love to piss off healers I think it’s best if we wait a few days for that.”

“That’s a plan, then. When you get your all-clear from old Mungo we’ll stock up on firewhisky and chocolate frogs and have a grand night of it.”

“And then we can go back to Mungo’s the next day for alcohol poisoning, I’m sure.” But he didn’t say no, and it at least meant he was making a promise of sorts to be around in a few days. Sirius would take a few days while he worked out a way to get Remus to promise longer.


	10. The Map

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you want to see my map? Padfoot made it for me.” 

For the second time in two days Remus woke up to find Harry playing on the floor, this time with a miniature quidditch pitch. Every time he dropped a ball onto the pitch one of the figures on a broom swept in to try and hit it towards a goal.

“Good game, Harry?” He climbed out of bed, glad to find that his muscles didn’t ache as much as they had the day before. Either the potions were working or a couple of nights on a good bed was all he needed.

“The blue guys are winning.” Apparently this was not the hoped for outcome, since he did not sound well pleased about it.

“They look like Ravenclaws. They never did well against Griffindor when Padfoot and Prongs were playing.” He understood the game well, for all that he’d only played a very simple two on two version during holidays. One could hardly live with James and Sirius and not know all the rules and most of the statistics for the game.

“Prongs was my dad. Padfoot calls him that sometimes but Nani calls him Jamie.” Harry, at the age of four, repeated the information as a fact. His voice carried none of the sadness that Remus felt.

“Yeah, I know. Your dad was a friend of mine too. And your mum.” 

“And Padfoot too?”

“And Padfoot too. We went to school together.” Hogwarts seemed a hundred years ago, and yet when he closed his eyes for a moment he could see their dorm in perfect clarity.

“When you were little like me?” Harry dropped a ball onto the pitch again, celebrating when the red team scored a goal. The score on the tiny scoreboard changed.

“No, not quite that little. I wish I’d known them then.” When he was Harry’s age he’d been just a boy, with no notion of werewolves outside of a scary comic he’d seen in a bookstore once. At twice Harry’s age he’d been a lonely boy, homeschooled by his mum with no friends in fear they might learn his secret and no hope of going to Hogwarts.

“Do you want to see my map? Padfoot made it for me.” The quidditch game seemed to be over for the moment, Harry’s attention drawn elsewhere. Remus vaguely remembered him mentioning a map yesterday when he first arrived.

“May I get dressed first? I only need a moment.” He was well used to getting dressed in a hurry, sometimes because new tips had come in at odd hours and sometimes because the places he stayed were less than savory and he found it safer to leave. His true speciality was sleeping anywhere, especially in train cars and alleyways.

“I suppose,” Harry said with a shrug that looked so much like James’ ‘I don’t see why that’s necessary but I guess’ look. He didn’t seem to be interested in going anywhere without Remus, so he dressed with a little less speed but all the furtiveness he’d first learned while sharing a room with boys he didn’t want to see his scars.

“Alright, so what’s this map of yours?” He’d used many maps over the past years as he’d traveled six of the continents, but the word always brought to mind the map he’d helped create. The Marauders' Map was still a keen bit of magic that impressed him, but it was the memories of working it out together that meant so much.

“It’s in my room.” Harry ran down the hall, past the door that always remained closed and Padfoot’s door, which was also closed since he was probably sound asleep. Harry’s door was open, leading to a room that had changed completely from the last time Remus had seen it. The walls were now the same yellow that had been in Harry’s nursery; Remus could remember Lily going back and forth between a dozen choices before picking just the right shade. She’d been banned from the nursery on account of paint fumes while the Marauders had done the painting. A good quarter of the paint had ended up on their clothing and skin, and in James’ case in particular in his hair. It had only partially been an accident.   


The bed was covered in a quilt of blue with a field of silver stars on it. A bookcase was filled with books, mostly meant for a small child but some longer. On the wall next to the bed were a dozen pictures, mostly of Sirius and Harry, or Harry and his grandparents, some of James and Lily. There were two group pictures with him in them. There were none of Peter. Organized on shelves were toys, a great collection that spoke of a very happy childhood and at least a little spoiling. He recognized a few that he’d sent over the years.

“Look at my Remus map.” Harry tugged at his hand, leading him into the room to the wall above the window seat. There was a map on the wall and Remus could tell immediately why Harry called it a Remus map. It was his life for the last three years. The map was of the whole world with a line of little paw prints tracing his journeys. The paths moved and faded, starting in England and moving across the channel into Europe and the Middle East. There were some gaps, places he hadn’t sent any cards or gifts from, but even a few of those places showed up. Sometimes a little drawing showed up next to a place, those charming little doodles Sirius used to draw in the margins of his books. They lasted a little longer on the map before fading, leaving behind a trail of the gifts he’d sent. The map ended with Nepal; he’d only had one other stop before going to Scotland and the English border. It was amazingly detailed. It also left him with a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

“That’s quite something.”

“Sometimes Padfoot tells me stories about all the places. You can tell me stories too.”

“I’d like that.” His own travels weren’t full of many stories worthy of a four your old’s innocence, but Remus loved to learn and had picked up a fair amount of stories through the years in addition to the hexes and dark creature lore. “Would you like a story about the  _ Kasa _ - _ obake _ , which look like umbrella’s jumping around on one leg?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” “Alright, so the  _ Kasa _ - _ obake _ live in Japan.” He settled on the window seat cushion, pulling Harry up to sit on his knee, and used his best storyteller voice. Every once in a while his gaze drifted to the map and wondered just what it meant that Sirius had made such an effort to follow his journey. It was only later, when Harry had run off to wake up Sirius, that Remus noticed that next to every location was a number. It took a few minutes to work out a pattern, but he finally figured out that the number got larger in places like America, and smaller next to Spain. They were kilometers, he realized. Sirius had noted next to each location how far he was from Weybridge, England.


	11. In Ignis Cupam Veritas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They found a quiet corner of the pub and ordered butter beers and fire whiskeys, mixing them together as they had when they’d stolen their first bottle of fire whiskey at thirteen and had found the taste made their eyes water and their throats burn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignis Cupam is a literal translation of Fire Whiskey, which is probably not dramatically correct but what can you expect from goggle translate?
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: there is mention of suicide. Not anyone doing it, but the possibility. 
> 
> This chapter discusses the war, deaths, and contains drinking.

His dislike of hospitals wasn’t getting any better the more he had to visit them, and today was no different even though he only had to deal with the waiting room. At least Moony getting a follow up with a healer was a far sight better than Moony unconscious three days ago. There wasn’t any reason for him to be around at all, except for an irrational fear that once Remus left the Potter house he wouldn’t come back. So he’d insisted on coming along. He’d also hid three of Moony’s books and his favorite cardigan, as added insurance.

“All clear?” It was only half an hour before Remus returned to the waiting room. 

“Yeah,” he said, distracted. 

“Moony?” His answer was not a very enthusiastic one, making Sirius worry. Was there something about the muggle disease to worry about? The cut on his head was barely noticeable now, and Remus, an expert on scars, didn’t think it would leave a mark. 

“It’s nothing to worry about. Something the healer said but I’d rather not get into it here.” Remus looked around the room very deliberately. “It’s about my furry little problem.”

“We should go get a drink at the Leaky Cauldron. We could pop into Diagon while we’re there, look around. Maybe pick up some new togs.” The state of Remus’ wardrobe was very worn and patched. He’d gladly offer to toss out the whole lot and cover a shopping spree but Remus would never agree to it. If they shopped together, though, he could at least get the shopkeep to mark things on sale with the proper monetary incentive. It was a trick he used sparingly, to keep Remus from getting suspicious, but it was a way to help his friend without bruising his pride, and store owners were always pleased to oblige even without the generous tip.

“I’m a bit light on funds at the moment. I can buy a pint but not much more than that.”

“Then you can let me buy this time, and you catch next time. We can look at the toy store, and browse Florish and Blott’s. Effie’s taken Harry with her to visit a friend, so we don’t have to be home for a while. When’s the last time you walked down Diagon Alley?”

“Somewhere around the time we went to buy a new mum gift for Lily, I think.” 

“Well that answers that question then. We have to go.” He and Remus had had drinks together to celebrate the new Potter. They’d had at least one more whiskey than was quite a good idea, making the rest of the day a tipsy blur, but for an afternoon they had pushed away the war completely. It felt like a Saturday at Hogsmead. Peter had been 'too busy’ to join them but he didn’t want to think about what he was busy doing.

They found a quiet corner of the pub and ordered butter beers and fire whiskeys, mixing them together as they had when they’d stolen their first bottle of fire whiskey at thirteen and had found the taste made their eyes water and their throats burn.

“To Prongs,” Sirius said before they took a sip, knocking glasses with Remus and the empty glass he levitated between them. It was the first time they’d shared a drink since before James had died.

“To Prongs.” Remus blinked twice before taking a sip, his voice somber. 

They toasted Lily next, and a third to absent friends. If they toasted to every friend they’d lost they would be far too drunk to get home, let alone wander down the alley. Already three drinks were leaving him feeling warm. He was out of practice with drinking.

“So are you going to tell me what the healer said?” Sirius moved the empty glass to the edge of the table where he didn’t have to look at it directly. It didn’t seem right to vanish it.

“There’s a new potion that they’re working on for werewolves. The hope is that it helps to keep the human mind while the body transforms, so the wolf acts on thought and not instinct.”

“Sounds a bit like being an animagi. Does it do anything about the pain?” That had been the hardest part about being allowed to watch Remus transform, once he’d become a dog. He’d known that there was pain but it was a whole other thing actually seeing Remus as his bones reformed and his body twisted.

“I don’t know. They’re looking for volunteers now that they’re ready for human experiments.”

“You’re not thinking about it, are you? Let them work out the kinks first.” The muggle term lab rat came to mind. Lily had explained what it meant once when they were talking about science experiments in muggle studies.

“It’s a paid study.” Remus shrugged and took a sip of his drink. “Which is useful but it’s not just that. It’s something I can do that might help others. I’m registered, they know what I am. There are a lot of others that have to live in the shadows, forced away from their families either for their safety or because they were kicked out. They didn’t get Hogwarts like I did. Some of them don’t get any education at all. And they’re too scared to have the Ministry find out about them. If this works if could begin to change things for them, and I could help with that.”

“I didn’t know you knew other werewolves.” Remus had never talked about it. He knew, from one drunken night when they were sixteen and he’d been recently kicked out of his home, the story of Greyback and how Remus had been bitten. Peter and James had fallen asleep and he and Remus had somehow wound up sprawled on the floor of the loo, passing a bottle back and forth between them. 

“I lived with a pack for a while.” Remus suddenly seemed far more interested in their surroundings than he had a moment ago, looking anywhere around the room except for where Sirius was sitting.

“While you were looking for Peter?” Other than the information he’d gathered for the map, mostly from Remus’ gifts and notes, a little from other sources like McGonagall, he knew precious little about what Remus had done in the past three years.

“You know how nervous Peter was around the wolf, especially that first year after he transformed. I can’t imagine he would have sought out a pack. In most places wizards and wolves don’t really mix.” It was quiet enough in the late afternoon that Remus only had to turn around in his chair and hold up two fingers to get the barkeep’s attention and order another round. “I’ll pick up this one.”

“The war.” When it came to him Sirius wanted to vomit or set something on fire or smash every glass in the place. “Dumbledore had you living with…”

“I’d rather you didn’t say the next bit at your current volume, Pads. I don’t need everyone here knowing about my affliction.” He reached across the table, wrapping his hand around Sirius’s wrist. “I’m sorry, I should have known better than to have this conversation in public.”

“He’s a right bastard. That’s what you wouldn’t say, when you kept going off for weeks at a time. Those moons you wouldn’t let us come with you. When I asked you if you were the spy I wasn’t wrong, I just didn’t know that you were spying for us.” Sometimes he hated Dumbledore, with his plans and his secrets and his use of children as soldiers. 

“There wasn’t anyone else who could do it. I was in a unique position. Someone had to find out which dark creatures were helping Voldemort and which might be turned to our side or at least stay neutral. I had a natural way in.” Remus rubbed a finger over one of the scars on his arm, a habit Sirius was pretty sure he wasn’t even aware of most of the time but a tell that he was bothered by something.

“Tell me, Remus, that Dumbledore didn’t set you up to join Greyback’s pack.” He looked at his friend desperately hoping that he was wrong, but one look at Remus’ face confirmed what he had already worked out. He ran for the loo and barely made it in time before losing his drinks, lunch, and probably any food in his system through Monday’s sandwich into the toilet. He’d barely flushed when Remus closed the door behind him, locking the door with an almost silent  _ colloportus _ .

“I couldn’t tell you then. I knew you’d do anything you could to keep me from accepting the mission.”

“Too bloody right.” His mouth tasted sour and despite the fact that there was nothing left in his stomach he wanted to throw up again. “He was wrong, Moony. I don’t care what he thought it might do, what he asked of you was fucked up.”

“It was war, Pads.” Remus sat on the floor beside him, legs crossed, expression carefully neutral. 

“That’s not an excuse. What is the point of fighting the monsters if doing so makes you act like them? You’re a person, not a weapon, and he just…” Sirius took a breath, trying to stoke his rage enough to be able to talk. “After I told Snape where to find you, and he almost died, we were all in Dumbledore’s office. I remember being so angry at Snape, and more so at myself. James was angry at me, rightfully so, and McGonagall, well it’s one of my life goals to never see that look on her face again. But you were so still. I don’t even remember you breathing, it was like you’d been petrified.”

“We don’t have to talk about that day.” It was a memory they hadn’t discussed since Remus had accepted his apology.

“Dumbledore told Snivilus to leave, on penalty of expulsion if he said anything about your secret. He told James he could leave as well, but he wouldn’t of course. I don’t remember much of what was said, other than hearing Severus promise not to tell.” Sirius continued as if Remus hadn’t spoken. “But to the day I die I will remember the first thing you said. The first words since you woke up in the shack and understood what had happened, what I had made happen. You said ‘If I ever found out that the wolf bit someone I’d kill myself.’ Dumbledore knew that. He heard those words and still dared to ask you to put yourself in that position.”

“I didn’t bite anyone, Sirius. Nothing human, at least.” Remus always sounded so damn accepting when it came to the bad things that happened, as if they were just what was expected. There were times Sirius wanted to shake him, but at the moment he didn’t have the energy.

“Maybe you should have bit Dumbledore, let him do his own dirty work for once.” He’d done his research on Fenrir Greyback, after learning the name. He knew what a sadistic bastard he was, the way he especially delighted in turning children. Many didn’t survive. Some became part of his pack, owing him their loyalty, doing his biding.  


“You don’t really mean that.” 

“Don’t I?” He leaned his head back against the cool wall, blowing out his breath towards the ceiling. He’d kill for a fag, but he’d quit when Harry was born after a very stern warning from Lily that he wasn’t coming near the sprog with the smell of nicotine on him. He hadn't had a cigarette since. “He let you in Hogwarts and I get it, you felt you owed him something. But not everything. Not your life and your soul.”

“My life and my soul still both belong to me, so far as I’m aware.” Remus offered him a hand. “We can’t keep the door locked forever, Padfoot. People will talk. I think we should skip the trip to Diagon Alley for today.”

“There’s one thing I want you to see before we go.” Sirius insisted on paying for their drinks before they left, but let Remus cover the tip. The shot of fire whiskey still at their table burned the back of his throat when he drank it but covered the sour taste in his mouth. 

Thankfully with school less than a week into session the street was quiet. It would have been a crowd a week ago, but in the late afternoon the few people milling about paid little attention to two men walking side by side. The somberness of their slightly unsteady walk probably helped to keep anyone from wanting to talk to them as well.

“You haven’t been here to see this.” The metal of the monument was a little darker than it had been three years ago, but the names that appeared above the wand were just as bright. A few names brought to mind only clippings from a newspaper of stories, but too many of them meant memories of people he’d known. People he’d fought with. He and Marlene had snogged once when they were curious and twelve and before she decided she only wanted to kiss girls. The Prewitt brothers had been brilliant quidditch players who had graduated at the end of his second year, and who he had fought alongside in more than one battle. It had taken five bastards to take down the two of them. And last, of course, was James and Lily. 

“I’ve never seen all the names in one place before.” Remus starred as the lights spelling out Lily Potter faded away.

“Too damn many.” Sirius turned his back to the monument before the cycle of names started again. Once was hard enough. “I’m so fucking mad, Moony.”

“I know, Pads.” They decided a floo was safer than attempting to apparate while drunk and returned to the Leaky Cauldron. Fortunately Harry and Effie weren’t home yet and they were able to go straight to Sirius’ room.

“So going to Hogwarts and giving Dumbledore a piece of my mind if probably a bad idea, yeah?” Sitting on the edge of the bed at least made the room stop spinning.   


“I think the best thing we both can do is sleep this off a bit.”

“You’re not leaving, are you?” The idea of closing his eyes and the next time he opened them not seeing Moony was suddenly a terrifying one.

“I’ll stay.” It had been years since they shared a bed, but it seemed natural to lie facing each other, a few inches of space between them.

“Thank you for not being on that monument, Moony. I don’t think I could have taken it.”

“I don’t know what I would have done either,” Remus echoed, his eyes closing. Exhausted, they didn’t wake up for dinner and slept through the night. At some point Remus rolled over and Sirius moved closer until he slept with his nose to Remus’s neck.


	12. Want Ads and Other Paid Offers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Experiment?” Monty, the resident scientist, looked at the envelope with curiosity. “What are they getting up to at old Mungo’s these days?”
> 
> “Something to manage that unsightly hair Moony grows every 28 days.”

The Potter library was one of the most perfect rooms Remus had even been in. The bookshelves went to the ceiling and were fitted with a sliding ladder on each wall. Three overstuffed chairs, one sofa, and a fainting couch meant there was always a comfortable place to curl up with a book. The fireplace was charmed to keep the room at a comfortable temperature. The books on the shelves were a delightful jumble of two hundred year old wizarding tombs and muggle mysteries, Shakespeare and potions books, Victorian romances and poetry by Rumi. He could spend months in the room and never get bored.

At the moment the only piece of reading material he was interested in was the Daily Profit that Monty was reading. After breakfast Monty always retreated to the library with a cup of tea and the paper. Understandable, since a good night’s sleep and the sugar in his breakfast jelly seemed to give Harry an extra burst of energy and he was rather fond of running. Sirius, of course, only encouraged this by chasing him and occasionally catching him to hold him upside down by his feet, spinning him in a way that made Harry laugh. 

“Do you mind if I have a look at the classifieds if you’re not using them?” Monty was, as usual, in the armchair closest to the fire. Remus could remember him sitting in the same chair reading the paper more than a decade ago when he’d first spent the night.

“Looking for a new broom or a pet knezel? Or perhaps it’s the personals you’re after. Looking for a date?” Monty teased, separating the classifieds from the rest of the paper. “If it’s a date you’re after you might find someone for our Sirius as well and make it a double.”

“No thank you.” He was teasing of course, but somehow managed to hit the nail almost on the head. Not that he was looking for a date, of course, but if he did want one it would be with Sirius. Three years of distance hadn’t changed his feelings at all. “Looking to see if anyone is hiring.”

“Anything in particular you’re looking for?” 

“Anything that pays, really. Something with a bit of flexibility.” James had confided everything in his parents, even, after Remus gave his blessing, his status as a wolf. 

“I might have a friend that needs some translation work done. You were always a clever one with languages and I’d imagine you’ve learned more the last fews years.” Monty folded up his paper, resting it in his lap. “I hope you won’t look at anything that takes you too far away, Remus. It means a great deal to Sirius that you’re finally here, and Effie and I both appreciate that. And Harry needs to get to know you better. Jamie would have wanted it.”

“I’ve missed him.” It’s not hard to admit. He’s missed Sirius every day for years.

“Of course you have.” Monty’s hands were soft when he reached out to pat one of Remus’ hands. They’re were thinner now, the skin more translucent, but he could still see the scars on them. Potions accidents, mostly, according to James. Even someone brilliant at potions blew things up at times, and he was his son’s father. “I’m lucky I never had to be away from my Effie very often, but even a few days was a lonely experience without my girl.”

“I miss James too. He was the best mate I could have ever hoped to have. I don’t know where I would be now if he hadn’t decided to be my friend.” It was James who had been the glue that molded the Marauders together. He couldn’t imagine that someone like Sirius would have even looked at him in the beginning, if James hadn’t gathered them all together first. 

“It runs both ways, my boy. Jamie was just as lucky to have you. Effie and I were always glad to know that whatever mischief you lot got into, you were together.” Monty looked up at the fireplace mantle where a photo of James and Lily had them dancing on their wedding day. “You have a home here, as long as you want it Remus. You’re family, just like Sirius and our Harry.”

Fortunately Monty picked up his paper again, hiding his face and granting Remus some much-needed privacy to wipe his eyes. His head was pounding, thanks to his drinking the day before, and it seemed like coffee might be a good idea. Certainly Sirius would want some whenever he got around to waking up. He’d still been completely passed out when Remus had extracted himself from the bed half an hour ago.

“Thank you, Monty.” He took the classifieds with him to the kitchen, not seeing the wistful look Monty gave him as he left.

The kitchen was empty and he made coffee and a piece of dry toast to settle his stomach before settling down with the ads. He was on his second cup and his third question mark next to an ad when Sirius sat at the table across from him.

“No matter how many times you look at the ads you’re not going to find Honeydukes looking for a chocolate taster.” Sirius had found the largest mug in the kitchen and had filled it with coffee. Remus took a minute to look at him, trying to gage how he was feeling after yesterday and the secrets he had not at all intended to share, or at least not that way. Sirius’ reaction was pretty much on par with what he’d expected.

“Some of us outgrew our unreasonable job goals at age twelve.” So far as he could tell the hangover was the worst of it, though making sure Sirius wasn’t in the same room as Dumbledore anytime soon might be a good idea.

“And some of us were tasked with the goal of trying to make McGonagall laugh at career counseling.”

“You gave yourself that task. Doesn’t really count.” He took a sip of his coffee and crossed out an ad looking for a night patrol at Knockturn Alley. He had to hide a smile at Sirius’ brashness. It felt like a conversation they could have had at any point over a dozen years. “You should eat some breakfast. We skipped dinner last night.”

“Yes mum.” Sirius rolled his eyes as he reached across and snatched the ads away, along with Remus’s quill. After a few minutes he handed the ads back. Half of them were crossed out, and when Remus looked closer they were for any place farther away than London. 

“I don’t think you quite have the concept of looking for work figured out, Pads.”

“I don’t think you quite have the concept of ‘we want you to stay here’ figured out, you wanker,” Sirius mimicked

Harry, running into the kitchen and climbing onto his godfather’s chair, smiled at them both and said ‘wanker’ with delight.

“I can’t just stay here as a guest, Pads. You know that. But I promise you I won’t go far.” He was tired. The last year had been harder than the first two, and even if he hadn’t found Peter he wasn’t sure how much longer he could have kept on at the same pace. There were too many bad days, too many nights without sleep, accidents and illnesses and painful transformations. And always there was the loneliness. 

“I know that you’re stubborn. There’s no reason you can’t stay here as a guest. We’ve plenty of room.” And then Sirius, being the manipulative person he could be at times, looked at the little boy on his lap. “What do you say, Harry? Do you think uncle Remus should stay here with us and play games and things or should he go work some naff job because his stubborn pride tells him cleaning up flobberworm terrariums is better than accepting a bit of help from a friend?”

“That’s not fair.”

“Uncle Remus tells good stories and he plays with me. I don’t want him to go.” 

“You’re a right b-a-s-t-a-r-d, Pads. That’s the most transparent attempt of emotional manipulation I’ve seen and that includes the time you tried to get me to write your muggle studies essay because you sprained your toe on my bed in the middle of the night.” It meant something that Sirius was so desperate to keep him around, when he hadn’t been so certain of his welcome for the past few years. But no matter how much it meant he couldn’t put off finding a job for long. He wasn’t going to live off of Sirius or the Potters, no matter how sincere their generosity. “It’s the moon in six days so there’s not much point doing anything other than look this week anyway. I’ll be a gentleman of leisure until then, alright? But don’t expect me to pick up any rounds at the pub.”

“Speaking of the moon, where are we planning on going?”

“The last time I was this close to Wales I used my parents's basement. I suppose it’s probably that or the shrieking shack, if I talk to Dumbledore first.” He wished he could call his words back the moment he’d said them. The last thing he and Sirius needed to talk about today was asking Dumbledore for a favor, especially involving his werewolfness. “I’m not sure about company, though. It’s been a long time since the wolf has had anyone around.”

“So we’ll go to Wales, then.” Sirius, of course, pushed on without any regard to what he’d said. “Any chance there’s a place for us to run? Much more fun than a basement.”

Remus shook his head. “I haven’t done that in years. I think this month it’s better if I go on my own.”

“If you want we can argue about this and you can tell me why you don’t want to put me in danger, yada yada, and then when you’re done and I’m done we’ll still end up in Wales together. Or we can skip all that and agree that i’m not going to leave you alone during a full moon. You’ve done that enough. Besides, wolfie loves playing with Padfoot.” Sirius used a warming charm on his coffee, which had been neglected while they talked. “I’ll even concede the point about running in the wild and agree that it will be indoors this time, alright?”

“At the first sign that anything might be wrong…”

“I know, Moony. I promise you that if I needed to get away I would.” As much as he would hate to abandon Remus even temporarily, the last thing in the world he would want to put him through was knowing that he’d hurt a friend in wolf form. “Do we have a plan?”

“I suppose we do.”

II

The owl came the next day just when breakfast was ending. Sirius had a theory about owls that they always timed their visits for times when families were most likely to be eating to ensure they got better treats. The particular owl that landed at the window was large and brown and carrying a rather thick envelope. Harry, always excited to collect the post, ran to the window with a bit of popover in his hand. Sirius opened the window for him.

“Mine?” Harry asked, clutching the envelope to his chest. 

“Sorry sprog, that one’s for Remus. You can pretend you’re the owl post and give it to him.” Sirius stared at the envelope with curiosity and a little concern. There weren’t that many people that would know to write to Remus care of the Potters.

“Ta, Harry.” Remus offered Harry a bit of bacon from his plate as a ‘treat’ for the delivery and set it down on the table before returning to his tea.

“Not curious about what it is? Or perhaps it’s something that can’t be opened in polite company?” Sirius teased.

“It’s from St. Mungos. Details about the experiment they wanted me to consider.” Remus used the blank sort of voice he always used when he was trying to downplay something.

“Experiment?” Monty, the resident scientist, looked at the envelope with curiosity. “What are they getting up to at old Mungo’s these days?”

“Something to manage that unsightly hair Moony grows every 28 days.” Sirius scowled at the envelope, wondering what would happen if he accidentally banished it and then just as accidentally obliviated his best mate so he wouldn’t remember the naff idea of using himself as a lab rat. There was only one rat in his life he wanted to suffer and it wasn’t Moony.

“Thanks, Pads. Eloquent as always.”

“It’s a gift.” 

“If you don’t mind I’d like to have a look at what they sent you after you read it.” Monty might have chosen to focus on hair care potions, but he tinkered in all kinds and had been known to advise them on their own potions over the years.

“I’d appreciate that, Monty.” The fact that Remus accepted the offer made Sirius feel marginally better. At least Monty would know if there was anything in the potion to worry about, and Remus would have to listen.

“How about some quidditch, sprog?” He and Harry had come up with a game, Harry playing on his Burke’s Beginner Broom which hovered a half meter above the ground and Sirius tossing a quaffle at him. They had a small ‘pitch’ in the side yard with a single goal. It was rather brilliant if Sirius said so himself. It broke his heart that James wasn’t around to see it.

“I’ll get my broom.” Harry started to run off before Effie reminded him to clear his place at the table. He did, then ran off once again.

“Quidditch?” Remus asked curiously.

“You’re welcome to come watch if you like,” Sirius offered. “If you want to join in we can start teaching him about the snitch.”

“I’d like to watch.” Remus joined them, levitating a small rock in place of a proper snitch, having fun making it go in circles and vanish occasionally, cheering loudly when Harry caught it the third time it came near him.

“All the makings of a seeker, don’t you think?” Sirius grinned as he scooped Harry up, tossed him in the air, and told him to go pick up his broom.

“You’re so good with him, Pads. It’s quite…”

“Surprising?” Sirius offered. The first weeks he’d felt completely out of his depth. He still knew that Harry would have had something extraordinary if James and Lily had lived to raise him, and he couldn’t possibly measure up, but he still vowed daily to do his best.

“Not at all.” Remus frowned, shaking his head. “I don’t think anyone that really knows you would be surprised that you’re a good father. I saw the way you were with the first years, when they’d get lost around the castle or in our seventh year when reports started to come in about things happening outside the castle walls. You always left them feeling better. And you were far better with Harry when he was born than either myself or… anyone else.”

“I hate that he’s so tangled up in all of our memories. Peter Bloody Pettigrew and his poisonous little self touching everything.” James had died thinking that Peter was a friend. He was glad that one of them didn’t have to deal with the betrayal; it would have broken James’s heart. He’d never been convinced that the spy could be a Marauder, even when Sirius had started questioning Remus’ absences.

“When I saw him it was like almost everything that made him Peter was gone. He was so used up and pathetic.” Remus watched as Harry, forgetting that he was meant to be picking up his broom, ran around the grass. “I should have been able to bring him in. I wasn’t focused, too caught up in wanting to understand  _ why _ .”

“It’s not your fault, Moony. It’s a thousand times more important that you’re here safe anyway. He’ll get his eventually.” Any day now he hoped to hear that the aurors had caught him. Or stumbled over his corpse. He wasn’t particular.

Remus was quiet for a minute, finally shrugging as if wanting to say something but thinking better of it. Knowing him he probably wanted to argue against his own value. Some days he’d love to shake the man and make him see how much he mattered. “I’m going to go make a cuppa and read my mail.”

“I’ll be in later.” It was easy enough to convince Harry to take a walk with him. He was too restless to go inside, his thoughts too full of hating Peter and worrying about Moony and that damned letter for St. Mungo’s. They stayed out until almost lunchtime. After lunch Harry followed Effie to the greenhouse and Remus disappeared to parts unknown. Sirius, at loose ends, decided that he might pop over to Diagon for a bit. If Remus wasn’t going to go to the pub with him on account of finances he could pick up a bottle of Ogden’s best and bring the pub home. He had the feeling they might need it at some point. Picking up some chocolate might not be a bad idea either. Both the days leading up to the moon and the day after were a little easier with chocolate. He headed for the library to use the floo.

“Sorry, Monty, didn’t know you were in here.” Most afternoons he joined his wife in the greenhouse, but today he was at the desk in the library. His son and grandson had inherited his eyesight, and he held a piece of paper not too far from his glasses. At his side was a pad of paper and a quill, moving on its own.

“Not to worry, my boy, just checking a few things.” When Sirius came closer the paper was a scribble of notions, only half of which Sirius could understand. 

“Is this the potion from St Mongo’s?” Sirius crouched down behind him, digging back to his NEWT potion lesions to remember some of the symbols. "Oi, that’s belladonna there, isn’t it?”

“Quite necessary, in this case.” Monty made a soft tutting noise under his breath, his finger tracing one of the lines in his diagram. “There’s a friend I’d like to owl and ask a few questions. No mentioning our Remus, of course, but I need to understand a few things better. It’s a fragile balance here.”

“Do you think it will work?” The last thing he wanted was for Remus to be the one that tested it, but the idea of any measure of relief during the moon was hopeful. “Anything there about reducing pain?”

“This part here is about retaining more control over the mind.” Monty circled one area of the paper with his finger. 

“And this part here is about calming the body.” His finger skimmed over the symbol for belladonna. “This is the part that concerns me.”

“What about it?” 

“I need to understand a little more about the endurance and metabolism of a werewolf during the moon. It’s the monkshood that’s troubling me. The wrong dose of that and there’s no difference between calm and catatonic.” 

“That’s poison.” He looked at the notes again, finally seeing where the notation for monkshood was written. St. Mungo’s wanted to give Moony wolfsbane, the only known toxin for werewolves other than silver. For any normal person it was a danger but for Moony it was an even bigger risk. “No way is he doing this.”

“The belladonna acts as a counterbalance. It’s actually rather ingenious the way they’ve worked it out. In the right hands this could work, though some of these ingredients mean it would be rather costly.”

“And in the wrong hands it means dead werewolves. Which probably suits the Ministry just as well, the bastards. They probably don’t even care which way it goes.” He’d never given a thought to werewolf regulations before knowing Remus. Now he knew every painful detail of the registration requirements, the invasive yearly checks, and worst of all the punishments if anything went wrong. The Ministry’s treatment of werewolves was inhumane.

“We’re not going to let anything happen to him, Sirius. You have my word.” Monty patted his hand. Sirius, though grateful for the understanding, didn't feel any better.


	13. Conversations, Quiet and Loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus talks to his parents and argues with Sirius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end bit of this was very fun to write.

“I’m sorry it’s been such a long time since I’ve been here.” Remus brought flowers with him, some wild harebells he’d picked. His mother had loved the delicate purple color. The cemetery where his parents had been buried three years apart was not far from the house where he had grown up, next to a little white church he’d never attended. 

“I’ve been traveling the world. Seen a fair bit, like I always wanted.” He’d read so much in books that he wanted to explore. Once he and Sirius had half jokingly talked of taking a year to backpack across Europe, seeing both muggle and wizard spots. James had already been involved with Lily by then and they had known he wouldn’t be interested, but they’d promised it was a plan. Sirius had even brought a two man tent at some point, something that made Remus’ heart pound and his palms sweat. The idea of sharing such a small space with the best friend he was secretly crushing on was both thrilling and terrifying.

“I’m back now. I’ve promised Sirius that I’ll stay close. I think he’s lonely.” When they were in school Sirius had made friends as effortlessly and as most people said hello. He was universally popular with 75% of the school, those that didn’t like him generally wore green and lived in a dungeon. Sirius being lonely was a hard thing to wrap his head around. Remus had been lonely for years, but that was easier for him to accept. It was more like the years being a Marauder were the aberration. 

“I thought maybe by the time I came back he would have met someone. Settled down. He’s brilliant with Harry, such a good dad. Maybe that’s why I’m here. I need to push him a bit, get him to meet more people.” After all, who better to find someone good enough for Sirius? Not only did he know Sirius intimately, he knew what it felt like to be in love with him. It made him the perfect person, as long as you didn’t count the fact that his goal was to break his own heart. 

He sat with his mum and dad for an hour, cleaning away weeds and transforming a vase for the flowers out of a bit of stone. On his way home he stopped to check the basement of his parents’ house to make sure there was nothing to fix before the full moon. The lock seemed strong enough, but the protection charms on the door had faded and needed renewing. 

When he arrived home - he tried not to think about how easy it was to consider the Potter house his home - the most wonderful smells were emanating from the kitchen.

“I was in Bangladesh six months ago but it didn’t smell this good.” He found Effie at the counter, adding spices to hot oil. She didn’t believe in cooking with magic, saying that it never tasted the same.

“It’s my grandmother’s recipe. She taught it to me when I was a little girl and when I married Monty she wrote it down in a book, telling me I would always be at home as long as I had a kitchen.” 

“I’ve had many a kitchen, but they never smelled like this.” Then again for all the places he’d lived there were very few that he would call a home. Hogwarts was one, his childhood home another, the flat he and Sirius had shared for a time was a third. Really he could only think of the three.

“You’re a clever boy, Remus. You just need to learn. Wash your hands and we’ll begin.” Remus did as he was told, washing his hands and donning an apron, spending the next hour following instructions and listening as Effie explained each step. It was like the best parts of potions, without the precision or the potential deadly side effects. 

“We’ll have you baking soon. I have a recipe for chocolate cake from Minerva that I know you will enjoy.” When the rice was steaming and the pot of curry was simmering there was nothing more for him to do. He headed for his room, thinking he might get the book he was currently reading, but was waylaid by Harry at the top of the stairs.

“You were gone forever and ever Uncle Remus. Me and Padfoot missed you.” The little boy hugged his knees tightly, almost knocking him over. 

“Not quite that long, I don’t think Harry. I took some flowers to my parents.” He realized that it was a silly thing to say the moment Harry looked up at him curiously.

“Do they live very far away?”

“Sort of.” He followed Harry to the child’s room, where Sirius was sprawled on the floor, leaning on one hand and looking almost the same as he had when they were in seventh year. Remus hoped he never realized just how attractive he really was. Sometimes Remus was surprised the man had never been asked to do any modeling. “‘Lo, Padfoot.”

“I have to agree with the sprog, Moony. You have been gone for ever and ever.” 

“You might want to worry that your attention span is the same as a four year old.” He settled himself on the floor, crossing his legs carefully. The muscle pain was almost gone, which was good, but these days it never seemed to leave completely. 

“Just means we're perfectly suited to each other, right Harry?”

“Uh-huh,” Harry agreed. 

Remus laughed, then suggested a game of exploding snap.

The next few days passed quickly, a vacation of sorts from anything heavy. Remus allowed himself to take a few days off things like job ads, spending his time getting to know Harry. Effie taught him more about cooking, he spoke with Monty about books they both loved. And always, of course, there was Sirius. Sirius listened when he told Harry stories, ran into the kitchen to steal a bite of whatever was cooking, lazed on the sofa while he talked to Monty. He and Sirius took a walk every day with Harry and sat out on the back porch in the evenings when everyone else had gone to bed. It was easy to slip onto old habits, and for the best part of his life his habit had been to have Sirius at his side.

The morning of the full moon dawned, Remus feeling weary already and his bones heavy as if they were pulled to the moon in the same way as the tide. 

“I’m popping out for a bit. I’ll be back before lunch.” He’d avoided saying anything until breakfast that day.

“You hate to travel on moon days.” Sirius spread jam on his toast in a thick and sloppy layer.

“I have an appointment at St. Mungo’s.” He tried to downplay it, with the vague but unfounded hope that Sirius wouldn’t ask any more questions.

“You didn’t say anything about a follow up with the healers.”

“It’s nothing, just a preliminary checkup for the study. They want baseline numbers the same day as the moon.”

Sirius stared at him. “You’re not serious about that thing, are you?”

“I haven’t decided if I am or not. I have some questions still, but if I don’t do this today it puts me a whole month behind. If I change my mind I haven’t lost anything.” 

“You might ask them about the poison and just how much monkshood they think they can give you before it’s too much.’ 

“I’m not walking into this blind, Padfoot. You have to trust that I know what I’m doing.” He’d read over everything in the letter three times, and had a long conversation with Monty about it. And he’d done research, of course. Between Effie’s herbology books and Monty’s potion texts there was a fair amount in the Potter library for him to read.

“And you have to understand that you can’t trust other people as much as you do. They don’t have anything to lose if this goes pearshaped.”

“The breakfast table isn’t the place to talk about this.” Harry was watching them both closely and looking worried. Monty and Effie were, he was certain, uncomfortable.

“Really, and what room would you suggest is best for discussing you risking your life?” 

“Upstairs. Now.” Remus used what had been dubbed, year five, his ‘prefect’ voice. It was the one that anyone who knew him well didn’t bother arguing against. He stared at Sirius until he stood, leaned over Harry to kiss the top of his head and whisper something, and left the room. Before following him Remus offered Effie and Monty an apology and a shrug.

“This is my choice, Padfoot, and I already explained to you why I was considering it.” Remus waited until they were in his bedroom before speaking.

“I’m sorry if I’m not blasé enough about my best mate’s death wish.” Remus was glad he’d cast a silencing charm on the room. Sirius in the middle of a rage could be quite loud. Remus could still remember the first proper Black rage he’d seen in their first year, when not even James had known what to do. Sirius stalked the room like some wild creature, a sight Remus might have enjoyed if he wasn’t working up his own head of steam.

“You are being ridiculous. I don’t have a death wish.” He was careful not to raise his voice, knowing there was no way to out-shout Sirius. He also knew that it irritated Sirius when he stayed calm and rational when Sirius was shouting.

“What do you call it when you don’t value your own life? When you put anything else above yourself? When you vanish for three years and come back looking so underfed that a pygmy puff could knock you over?” Sparks were coming off the wand in Sirius’ back pocket, and Remus wondered what kind of accidental magic he might be capable of if he didn’t calm down. It was easier than focusing too much on what he was saying and the fact that it came a little too close to home.

“I live my life the best way I know how.” A war needed soldiers and so he fought, using the skills and abilities he had. A traitor needed finding and so he’d followed. And maybe he’d allowed those things to hide him more than he should, but there was a sort of self protection in being alone.

“When are you going to do something because it’s what you want, not because you’re putting someone else first?” 

Afterwards Remus wasn’t sure how it happened or what had made him do it. It was probably the stupidest thing he had done and certainly his timing was terrible if nothing else. But when Sirius glared at him he glared back, grabbed the front of his shirt to keep him from moving, and kissed him. If he was going to be stupid and selfish and let Sirius goad him into taking what he wanted there was no reason to go halfway. Sirius, full of rage and passion and who knows what else, kissed him back. Probably some sort of automatic reflex.

“I have to go.” He apparated from the room to the back alley at St. Mungo’s, not certain if he’d heard Sirius calling after him or not. Leaning heavily against the cool brick he stared at the wall opposite of him. He’d well and truly fucked things up now.


	14. Chapter 14

Sirius spent most of the day pacing. It might have been Remus’ original plan to only pop out for a bit, but that was before. He didn’t return for lunch, which was bad enough, but by the time the sun started to set Sirius was well and truly in a panic. Remus didn’t get angry often. He got quiet and remote. After The Prank he’d barely said a word for a month unless a professor asked a question. When his mum had died he’d completely disappeared for twelve days and Sirius still didn’t know where he’d been. And then of course there were the last three years.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” He gave Harry a hug an hour before moonrise.

“With Uncle Remus?” Harry asked, not knowing how much the innocent question hurt.

“I hope so, sprog.” He wasn’t sure what he would do if Remus had changed plans and wasn’t in Wales. There wasn’t enough time to track him before the transformation Sirius would track him, though. If he wasn’t there tonight and didn’t return to the house Sirius had every intention of tracking him down this time. He wasn’t letting Moony out of his life again and he certainly needed to understand what it meant when Moony kissed him.

Moony had kissed him. His brain was still trying to work out if that had really happened.

There was a single light in the window at the Lupin home, and Sirius felt like it was the first time all day he’d been able to draw a proper breath. Remus was in the kitchen, and the fact that there was a second teacup at the table was a surprise and a relief. He almost smiled, but Remus’s expression was carefully blank. He waited until Sirius was sitting before he spoke.

“The aurors have found Peter.”

“They have him?” All thoughts of kisses and fights fled his mind as his stomach churned acid. 

“They wouldn’t let me see him, but Moody said he’s in a cell. There’s going to be a trial, but it’s a formality.” 

“He’s going to Azkaban.” The acid from his stomach reached his mouth, making every word taste sour. Once there had been a bright face boy who had laughter and loved lemon fondants and had been delighted when Sirius and James had accepted him as a friend. Now there was only a traitor, who had given up James and Lily and almost Harry as well, the babe he’d held the day he was born.

“Yeah.” Remus closed his eyes for a moment, hiding whatever he was thinking and feeling. “I’m going down now. You don’t have to be here tonight if you don’t want to, Sirius.”

“I’m here.” Of course he was going to stay. Especially now, when he knew that Remus had to be on emotional overload and the more upset he was the worse the wolf behaved. He wasn’t going to let Remus suffer, not if there was anything in his power to stop it. “I’m not going anywhere.”

II

Remus woke up with the realization that he was very naked and very cold. He was always naked the morning after a full moon, but it was one thing when he was alone in the middle of a forest or in a basement and another when his not-naked best friend who he'd kissed a few hours earlier was in the room and he was suddenly very conscious of every scar he hadn’t had the last time they had transformed together, and just how prominent his ribs were. Thankfully before he could even open his eyes a blanket dropped on top of him and he made quick work of wrapping it around his body.

“Thank you.” There was a bite mark on his arm, but as far as he could tell it was the only one, and the mark was shallow as if he was interrupted before he could do much self damage. Once he was covered he dared to turn around and look at Sirius.

“It was fine, you know. The wolf remembered Padfoot. Seemed glad to see him, actually.” Sirius and James had always been his memory after a full moon. He didn’t have anything more than vague impressions of moon nights, but they had always delighted in filling in the blank spots, though their tales sometimes had to be taken with a grain of salt.

“I’m glad you were safe.” Though only a few feet separated them it felt like a chasm, filled with arguments new and old, Peter’s betrayal, and topped off with that stupid mistake of a kiss. 

“You don’t look too bad today, other than the fact that there’s not a spare pound on you anywhere.” Sirius was at least kind enough not to mention his scars. “Harry was hoping you’d be coming home with me today.”

“If I’m still welcome,” he started tentatively. Sirius didn’t allow him to say anything more.

“Merlin, Remus, you really don’t get it, do you? If it wasn’t a gross manipulation I’d put a confundus charm around the border of the Potter property so every time you tried to leave you’d forget where you were going. Of course you’re welcome.” Sirius stood up, using his wand to bring down Remus’ clothes and wand from the high shelf where the wolf couldn’t get to them. “Do you think I’d be so angry about you volunteering to drink poison nine days in a row if I didn’t want you around?”

“Can we file that one right now? We have to deal with Peter and going down to the aurors for interviews. It’s a bit much to handle right now.” 

“I’d be glad to file it in the rubbish bin if it meant you’d forget about it.” Sirius turned to face the wall, knowing from long experience that Remus preferred privacy to dress. Neither he nor James had been shy about dressing in the middle of their dorm - or streaking down the halls - but Remus had only gotten more private about being seen without his clothes over the years. There were only a few occasions in the last few years when anyone had seen him less then fully dressed.  


“Thank you.” There wasn’t anything he’d have to do for a while, if he said yes to the experiment, and he’d rather not have that argument again. Considering he was almost certain he was going to do it there would be another row at some point but other things came first. And if he was lucky in the confusion of it all Sirius would forget about the kiss completely, and eventually he'd be able to savor the memory as a whisp of something that never was but might have been in another life.

“Would you rather I took you home side-along? Wouldn’t want you to splinch anything important.”   


Remus stood up, testing his balance and seeing how he felt. Sore, of course, but that was to be expected. Tired, as usual, and perhaps not at his best when it came to focusing. “Take us home, Pads. I could murder a full English breakfast.”


	15. The Happy Medium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interview with Mad Eye and more than a few drinks after

The owl from Moody came a few hours after they got home from Wales, while Remus was in his bed telling Harry a story and trying valiantly not to fall asleep. It requested their presence at three-thirty for interviews. Sirius wrote back that they would come tomorrow instead. Moody grudgingly accepted and told them to show up at ten the next morning or else. Considering it was Mad Eye he didn’t want to know what ‘or else’ might include.

“I hate this place.” The next morning found them at the Auror’s headquarters at a quarter of ten, because Remus was like that and Sirius didn’t have a choice. It was a little more than a month shy of the third anniversary of James and Lily’s death and his own arrest. He hadn’t been near the place since they’d released him.

“You used to talk about being an auror,” Remus reminded him. It seemed a thousand years ago that the idea had seemed exciting and cool, as well as being exactly what his parents would hate to see him doing. He spent a lot less time thinking about his parents now that they were dead. It was only Reggie’s presumed death that troubled him.

“That was before they tried to send me off to be dementor food.” Sirius held open the door, letting Remus walk ahead of them. The room was the sort of controlled chaos that he might have appreciated if he didn’t hate the place so much. In the middle of the room was Mad Eye Moody, looking as if he hadn’t changed at all in the three years since he’d seen the man.

“About time. We have questions for you two. Lupin, you’re with Setter. Black, you’re with me.” It should have occurred to him that they would be separated. Of course they would. He hated it.

“Once more unto the breach, friends,” he muttered, and was rewarded by a wane smile from Remus before they were separated.

“If you want summit to drink speak up now, I won't be bothered to ask again.” Moody’s office was as consistent as the man, looking the same except for the faces on the wanted posters.

“I don’t suppose fire whiskey is on the menu?”

“There’s tea and there’s water, or if you want to be difficult about it I can always bring out the veritaserum.” Moody’s magical eye seemed to examine every inch of him.

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not thirsty.” There was a not unlikely chance that he’d end up vomiting before they were done anyway. Just thinking about Peter was toxic.

“Fine then. Tell me about Pettigrew. We’ll start with your completely illegal animal transformations and go from there.”

Sirius answered questions for two hours, from their first meeting to the last confrontation on the street after he knew James and Lily were dead. Peter was denying being the secret keeper, not knowing that it had already been proven. 

“What if he keeps denying that he worked for Voldemort?” Sirius couldn't understand how a coward could be sorted into Gryffindor. 

“Innocent men don’t look like this.” He had a photo, and Sirius blanched when he saw what Peter looked like now. It made him ill to see how small and pathetic he had become, but that wasn’t what made the color drain from his face. In the photo an auror - Sirius recognized Kingsly Shacklebolt - touched a wand to Peter’s arm and said a spell that couldn’t be heard. The pale skin of Peter’s seemed to blister for a moment before it darkened like ash. The Dark Mark appeared.

“I should have killed him when I had the chance.”

“Killing is too good for the likes of him.” Moody turned the photo over after the third time watching the Mark appear. “Over too quick.”

“I don’t care. I just want him gone.” Enough had been taken from him already. He didn’t want to have to think about Peter any more.

When he came out of Moody’s office Remus was standing near the front door, his gaze unfocused. Sirius wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “We’re going to a pub.”

“Because that went so spectacularly last time?” Remus said dryly, but he didn’t protest. Neither of them were in a fit state to apparate, but fortunately they were only two blocks from a place Sirius knew called the Happy Medium. It was less popular than the Leaky Cauldron and they were less likely to run into anyone. 

“A bottle of goblin rum and two glasses,” he told the barkeep when they entered the mostly empty bar. After all it was barely gone noon, and it wasn’t the sort of place that served food. He left ten galleons on the bar to make it clear that he was serious.

“I’d toast to Peter getting everything he deserves, but I don’t want to waste good rum on that bastard.” Sirius poured their first glass, handing one to Remus.

“I’d rather not think of him at all, right now. Did Moody show you the picture of…”

“Yes.” He knocked back his first drink in a single swallow and refilled the glass before holding it up. “A toast to forgetting that which doesn’t deserve to be remembered, and remembering those that can never be forgotten.”

“Lechyd da,” Remus added in his rarely used Welsh, before downing his own drink.

“Moody said he doesn’t think the wizengamot will require any witnesses. The evidence is damning enough on its own.” He and Moony both finished their next drink in only a few sips. 

“I told Peter, when I saw him, that I would try and keep him out of Azkaban if I could. The idea of dementors makes me ill. But that photo… He has…”

“He doesn’t deserve any part of you, Moony. Not even your pity.” Sirius looked down at his own arms. Around his right wrist was a band protection sigils. On his left forearm a pair of stag antlers. Neither declared him to be a traitor and servant to evil.

“I don’t think I can manage his trial.” 

“We’ll take Harry camping,” Sirius declared. “Peter didn’t win. We still have Harry and we’ll make sure his life is brilliant.”

“Any excuse to burn things on sticks over a fire, eh Pads?” Sirius felt a moment of victory when Remus smiled. 

“Harry’s going to have to learn the fine art of cooking wieners over the fire at some point. You know he’s going to love it. I think we still have the old tent in the cellar.” It had been big enough for four of them, and would fit the two of them and Harry easily. Him and Remus sharing a tent; for the first time since he’d learned that Peter had been captured Sirius remembered that Remus had kissed him and he still didn’t know what it meant.

“I’ll refresh myself on extinguishing charms.” If Remus knew what he was thinking he was careful not to mention it, and despite the fact that they were already halfway through the bottle he didn’t mention it either.

“You say that as if I had a habit of setting things on fire,” he said in mock offense.

“Would you like me to make a list chronologically or in order of the size of the fire you created?”

“Maybe I should have said I rarely set things on fire unless it was intentional. The one in fifth year was particularly effective. Evacuated the whole castle in the middle of the night and got to see McGonagall in her night togs, pissed off the whole Slytherin house since they had transfiguration exams the next day, made sure Prongs had a warming charm all ready to offer Lily and had an impromptu skating party on the frozen lake.” He bit his tongue before mentioning that Peter had gotten his first yes to a Hogsmead date that night. There was no way to unweave those stories from their own. He remembered racing Remus on the ice and crashing into a bank of snow and laughing until his side hurt. 

“It was a good night,” Remus admitted wistfully, staring down at his drink.

“There’s still a lot of good nights to come.” Sirius kicked him gently under the table, not liking the maudlin sound of ‘good’ being something that belonged to the past. “We’re going camping, remember? And it’s Christmas in a couple of months. There’s nothing quite like Christmas with a sprog around. And the clock is ticking, Moony. It’s only seven years until Harry’s at Hogwarts and there’s so much to teach him. Imagine if we had started out in first year knowing all the passages? What mischief we could have managed.”

“Minerva is going to kill us.” But there was a smile at the corner of his mouth now, and Sirius found that it both made him feel better and made him feel off all at once. Moony had kissed him once in anger and he didn’t know what it meant but he found himself wondering what it might be like if Moony kissed him with that hint of a smile there instead.

“I can’t believe you called her Minerva.”

“It’s her name, Pads. She’s a person just like anyone else,” he said with a shrug.

“She’s not a person, she’s a professor.”

They stayed at the Happy Medium until the bottle was empty. Sirius had a vague recollection of some sort of shot as well that had been on fire, either because it was supposed to be or by accidentally trying to prove something. There was some debate about a second bottle but while Remus had always had a high tolerance Sirius was a bit out of practice considering his usual drinking partner preferred pumpkin juice to anything else. All in all it was probably better for everyone when they decided to leave, especially considering how out of tune their version of the Hogwarts school song sounded.

“Your room or mine?” Sirius asked when they landed in the library after using the floo. Whichever one Remus picked he’d have to wait a minute at least until the room stopped spinning.

“Too many stairs,” Remus muttered. “Fine right here.”

“Can’t sleep on the floor.” Sirius slapped his hand against the wood for effect. Too hard. Like magic, though, there was a sofa a few feet away from then, in the same place it was all the time. He pointed to it. “Look, Moony. Practically a bed.”

“Too small. You take it, m’fine here.” Remus leaned against him, using his shoulder as a pillow, and Sirius was half tempted to stay where he was. The temptation ended when his hand started falling asleep.

“We’ve shared smaller.” He pushed and prodded and made a couple of threats, and finally succeeded in getting Remus onto the sofa without his shoes on. Shoes made for very poor sleeping and if he was tired Moony had to be exhausted. By the time he wrestled a blanket on top of them and buried his face in the back of Moony’s neck the room had stopped spinning quite so much. “Night, Moons.”

Remus, face pushed against the back of the sofa and already half asleep, replied with something that sounded like ‘might buds.’


	16. Of Hangovers and Bookstores

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We hafta go to Blotts today, ‘member?” Harry climbed into bed with him, one pointed little elbow digging into his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very mild mentions of sexual situations here. No, sorry, not more kisses. But that will come.

For the second time in a week Remus woke up with the pounding head and dry mouth that spoke of a night spent drinking far more than was healthy. He also woke up incredibly warm, incredibly stuck in one place, and incredibly aroused. And of course Sirius’ hand was on his hip, uncomfortably close to his erection.

“Don’t open your eyes, Moony. The light is vicious this morning.”

“The light is always vicious the morning after feats of incredible stupidity like drinking half a bottle of goblin rum.” He tried to give himself a little more space by moving closer to the pillows, but found that the friction against his front was a terrible idea. 

“Need to move, Moony?”

“No thank you, I can die right here just as well as anywhere else.” He tried to stay completely still in hopes that his head might not pound quite so much. If he focused on something he might also be able to forget that Sirius was draped all over his back. At least the certainty that his breath had to resemble that of a troll meant there was no temptation to do anything stupid and kiss him. There had been a few close calls the night before. When he was drunk it was hard to remember why it was a terrible idea, which was why sometime in the year after graduation he’d made a pact with himself not to get drunk with Sirius. He’d done a terrible job keeping the promise.

“Don’t even think about it. I’ll resurrect your arse even if the only way I can manage it is by making you a zombie. You’ll have to eat brains, Moony. Brains.” There was absolutely nothing pleasant about Sirius whispering ‘brains’ into his ear except the fact that Sirius was whispering into his ear, his breath warm and his voice husky from hours without speaking and too much alcohol. And singing. Oh Merlin, he was pretty sure there had been singing the night before.

“Good, because what the world really needs is a zombie werewolf. Instead of the threat of vicious and bloody attacks there’s the threat of vicious and bloody attacks followed by brain feasting.” The image, at least, was enough to help take care of one little problem. Amazingly he didn’t feel very lustful when thinking about being a zombie.

“I’d still love you if you were a zombie, Remus.”

“I hate you,” he muttered into the back of the sofa. A blatant lie, of course. “Also you’re completely mental.”

“Pretty sure you’ve known that for about thirteen years. It’s part of my charm.” 

Remus snorted, the impulse proving to be a bad idea when it sent shockwaves through his brain. “I’m never drinking again.”

“I’ve heard that before. Remember when we were thirteen and James brought back a bottle of fire whiskey after winter hols?”

“I remember playing truth or dare and you streaking in the common room. James left a rather bawdy limerick on McGonagall’s desk. Poor Peter threw up all over the…” Peter was going on trial, and would end up in Azkaban. Yesterday flooded back, the remembering and the questions and the photo showing off Peter’s Mark. Sirius didn’t know that the spying had started when they were still at Hogwarts. He hoped it was a truth that never had to be known. “I hate drinking enough to forget. It alway makes it that much more painful to remember.”

“I know.” Sirius’ hand tightened painfully at his waist, but Remus barely noticed. The touch alone was overwhelming. He tried to remember the last time he’d touched anyone for so long, but it hurt to think that it had been years. His parents had never been overly tactile but the Marauders had more than made up for it with years of dog piles and shared beds and squeezing under the cloak together. They’d crowded into closets and fit onto a single sofa and hadn’t thought anything of it. There had been a few sexual encounters over the past few years but they had been brief and he’d never shared a bed with any of them. Certainly none of them had molded themselves against him like Sirius. The tight grip against his hip wasn’t uncomfortable but the intimacy was becoming too much.

“I need a shower and some strong tea and a toothbrush.” He needed space most of all, but he couldn’t tell Sirius that. Couldn’t explain that touch made things feel a little too real. He’d been drifting for years, half a ghost himself, anchoring himself with the single minded goal of finding Peter. Now Peter was caught and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do or how he was supposed to feel.

“Later. Best thing for a hangover is sleeping it off. Why don’t we…”

“Now.” He pushed back against Sirius but he was weighed down and pinned in place. Thankfully the second time he tried to move Sirius shifted enough to let him up, moving out of the way. Remus sat up, sending a wave of pain through his head. He pressed the heels of his palms into his forehead and leaned forward.

“Moony?” Sirius touched his arm and he flinched. “You’re not going to vomit, are you?”

“I’m fine,” he lied. At least vomiting was pretty low down on the list of things that might happen. He just needed his head to stop pounding and it would be nice if he could catch his breath. He could almost feel Sirius looking at him, that worried and confused look on his face. He didn’t have the energy to put his mind at ease. All he could manage before he left the room was the same lie. “I’m fine.”

II

It wasn’t fair to say that Remus was acting odd, because there wasn’t exactly a normal way to deal with giving evidence against a former best friend who was with little doubt going to end up being a dementor snack. That didn’t stop Sirius from thinking that he was acting odd, and worrying about him. Thinking about much of anything, though, made his head hurt. He headed for the kitchen to start some tea and picked up a jam jar to transform into a pair of sunglasses.

It was early enough that no one was in the kitchen, and as much as he loved his godson he was glad that his head was spared the noise. While the tea brewed he made toast and sausage, deciding that looking at raw eggs was more than he could handle. He made enough for two. While he ate alone he tried not to think too much about the day before, at least not the bit at the aurors’. The pub wasn’t so bad, and felt almost like the old days. By the end of the evening Remus had almost looked relaxed. He liked seeing Remus smile. 

When he was done he took a cup of tea and a plate of food upstairs, meaning to give it to Remus. The door to his room was locked and he didn’t answer when called. Sirius left the food outside the door and decided that a little more sleep would help. He crashed on his bed until Harry excitedly woke him up.

“We hafta go to Blotts today, ‘member?” Harry climbed into bed with him, one pointed little elbow digging into his side.

“They’re not open yet.” It wasn’t a lie, but from the clock on the wall he could see that Flourish and Blotts opened in about fifteen minutes. Thankfully Harry hadn’t learned to tell time.

“Are they open soon? What if all the books are gone before we go?” Harry sounded horrified by the thought, and though Sirius knew he was talking about one specific book it was amusing to think of a swarm of people descending on the book store and clearing them out. Somehow every person in his imagining looked like Remus, which made sense. Moony did like his books.

“They’re going to have piles and piles of your book, sprog. No one’s going to snatch them all up if we have breakfast first.” Or second breakfast, in his case. He’d been promising Harry a trip to the bookstore for a week. His favorite series, Alfie McGoo’s Accidental Magic, was releasing a new book and the first forty-three kids to get the book got a surprise with their purchase. Harry was definitely not going to let him get back to his nap. “Alright, let’s go get something to eat.”

“Can Remus come too?” Harry looked across the landing to Remus’ room. The door was closed but the tea tray was no longer there. 

“Why don’t you go ask him while I start your eggs?” Sirius wasn’t totally confident that Remus would say yes if he asked, but Harry was much harder to turn down. Ten minutes later he was frying up some tomatoes when Harry and Remus entered the kitchen.

“Apparently we’re going to the bookstore today.” Remus had clearly taken the shower he’d mentioned earlier and had changed into a patched cardigan that had seen better days. The bulkiness of it hid how thin he was, but his trousers were clearly too loose on him. Hopefully he’d eat a second breakfast too, and when they got Harry’s book they could have some ice cream. He’d never seen Remus say no to ice cream, not even the morning after a full moon.

“Yes, and then at some point today we’ll be leaving the bookstore so don’t settle in too much. They still don’t rent out beds.” They’d joked a hundred times about Moony moving into a bookshop. James had even teasingly transformed an armchair into a very lumpy bed one time. 

“Lily would be happy to know how excited he is about reading books.” Remus leaned in the doorway, wincing when the curtains moved and he was hit by a sunbeam across his face. 

“I didn’t know how to talk to him, at first. Didn’t really know how to talk to anyone so I just picked up the closest book and read it to him. We read those wardrobe books you liked, the first month. And that Tolkien bloke you used to go on about. He didn’t seem to cry much if I was reading.” Sirius hadn’t cried as much either, when he’d managed to immerse himself in someone else’s world. He’d spent hours just holding Harry and reading out loud. In the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep he’d sneak into Harry’s room and read to himself, falling asleep more often in the rocking chair than his own bed. 

“I’m hungry.” Harry sat at the table, pausing from his current occupation of blowing bubbles in his milk to remind Sirius of the lack of food in front of him.

“Hold your thestral, kid.” He’d been distracted enough that the tomatoes had started to burn, but vegetables were important apparently for growing kids so he made a new batch. While they cooked he dished out the food onto three plates. It was good to see that Remus didn’t hesitate to dive in.

An hour later they were all fed, washed up, and dressed. Sirius held onto Harry as they apparated, meeting Remus just outside Diagon Alley.

“Which brick, Harry?” He waited until Harry examined the wall, jumping as high as he could to hit a brick a foot above his head.

“You know if you’re wrong we’ll end up in Antarctica, right?” he teased, picking Harry up again so he could hold onto the back of the wand and ‘help’ reveal the entrance.

“You always say that and we never do.” Harry sounded disappointed.

“Just as well. Some of us aren’t dressed well for snow.” He looked back at Remus; the corners of his mouth were turned up. 

When the wall opened up, a magic that he never tired of watching, he was glad of the sunglasses he’d brought. His eyes weren’t quite ready for the combination of sunshine and brightly lit window displays. “Alright, then. Shall we head for Twilfitt and Tatting? Maybe the apothecary? A jaunt down Knockturn Alley?”

“Blotts,” Harry insisted, already squirming to be let down and run. He never did remember the full name of the store, but he certainly knew where it was located.

“He can be rather single minded,” Sirius commented with a shrug.

“Well he is being raised by you, Pads.” Remus followed them a little more slowly, looking around him as he walked. 

“Does it seem very different?”

“Different than any other place in the world, but not different from how it’s supposed to be.” Harry had already reached the shop, tugging on a door that was too heavy for him to manage.

“Alright, sprong, run and find your book.” It was hard to decide who to look at; Harry ran straight for the display of Accidental Magic book eight, dancing around in delight to find there were plenty of copies, or Remus who turned slowly in place and took in the whole shop. Sirius wondered if he noticed how even his breathing changed in a bookshop, as if he could take the essence of the place into his lungs. “You should pick out a book too. My treat.”

“Sirius…”

“Yes, I am.” He laughed when Remus rolled his eyes. It was a pun he'd used hundreds to times. “Call it a welcome home gift or a delayed birthday present. Or pick something you know I’ll want to read too if it makes you feel better. You know there’s a whole list in your head right now that you want to read.”

“There’s a whole percussion band in my head at the moment. Did I mention the part where I’m never drinking again?” He finally agreed, however, that he did have a book in mind and wandered off to search the shelves. 

“How’s the book, Harry?” Though he had a book in hand, Harry was leaning over to look at the copy of the girl next to him. 

“We’re looking for nargles. Luna said she saw one but they’re really shy and I didn’t see it.” The girl next to Harry was a bit smaller than him, her hair a pale blond that looked almost white. Sirius had no idea what a nargle was, but the kid probably just had a good imagination. 

“Where are your parents, love?” There didn’t seem to be anyone near her, and while a few years ago Sirius might not have thought much of it, he knew from experience how frightening it could be to have your kid out of your sight.

“Mummy’s working. There’s daddy.” A little finger pointed and Sirius looked. From the back all he could see was that the man had the same blonde hair as his daughter, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was talking to Remus, and Remus was smiling. And hugging him. It made Sirius very uncomfortable, probably because there was no way to know if the bloke was a risk. After all Remus had been gone for years, how did he know who he could trust?

“Oi, Moony, we’re over here.” Remus waved and returned to his conversation, leaving Sirius to stare at him. Had the bloke pulled a confundus charm on him? It was a few minutes before they both walked over.

“Sirius, I’m not sure you know Xenophilius Lovegood. He was Ravenclaw, a year above us. Xeno and I were in ancient runes together.”

“No, I don’t think we’ve met.” Runes hadn’t interested him at all in school. Neither had Ravenclaws, much. “Guess it’s been quite a while since you’ve seen each other.”

“Years, but we’ve traded owls a few times. Xeno has a newspaper and I asked him to keep an ear out for certain stories that might help me out when I was, you know.” He waved his hand in the general direction of the door. Certainly a crowded building wasn’t a good place to talk about Peter. He’d be happy enough to never talk about Peter. He’d be equally happy to never talk about this Xeno bloke either. For three years he hadn’t had a single owl, his only news coming second hand. But Remus had written to others. To people who had no vested interest in knowing that he was safe and alive.

“Nice meeting you,” he lied before bending down to scoop up Harry. “Come on, sprog. We’d better go buy your book so we make sure they have that surprise gift.”

“I’m ready to go too.” It was a little heartening to see that Remus only said a quick goodbye to the other man. An inner voice told him that he as being stupid, that Remus should have friends and disliking a bloke on sight was foolish. It didn’t change how he felt. He bought the two books, a study in opposites. Harry’s paperback was maybe fifty pages long with moving illustrations for every chapter. Remus had a hardcover tomb that was at least six hundred pages. It might keep him entertained for a week. Fortunately they were early enough in the day that not all the surprises had been given out, and Harry carried a sparkly purple package out the door.

“So where too now?” he asked once they were out on the cobblestone path.

“Can I open my surprise?”

“Course, lad.” He found them a bench and made sure to focus completely on what Harry was doing. He caught the paper as it fell, Harry being too excited to think about litter, and waited until he opened the box.

“It’s Hedwig! Just like Alfie.” Inside was a small white stuffed owl which vaguely looked like the owl in the book’s illustrations. Alfie McGoo was always accompanied by his faithful friend Hedwig. In the first book his ‘accidental magic’ he had given Hedwig the ability to speak. “When I’m bigger I’m going to have an owl named Hedwig.”

“When you go to Hogwarts,” Sirius promised, though he was certain that Harry would forget about the name long before then. Harry, however, thought that he should get a seven year jump start on shopping and insisted they should go to the magical menagerie. Sirius didn’t think there was a reason to say no, as long as it was understood that they were just looking.

“He fed me tips about possible sightings of Peter.” Sirius spent ten minutes following Harry around and carefully not looking at Remus, but when Harry was distracted by a litter of newborn puffskins Remus pulled him aside. 

“You don’t have to explain.” He tried to convince himself that it was true. 

“Xeno’s always been a bit odd. Nine times out of ten his information was useless but he had a couple of sightings that pointed me in the right direction.” Remus rested his hand on a cage but moved it quickly when the fire crab inside released an inferno. “I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea about why I wrote him and not you. You seemed upset.”

“My head’s still hurting too.” Which was true, but wasn’t at all why he’d been so abrupt in the bookstore. “Maybe we should just go home.”

“Harry’s been talking about going to the joke shop next. You’re not really going to say no to that, are you?” Remus looked at him straight in the eye for the count of a couple of breaths and then he smiled. Sirius had never been able to say no to that smile. Besides, a Marauder never said no to a joke shop.

“We should go there next.” It would take some time to extract Harry from the animals, though. He’d moved on to the nifflers.

“Are we alright?” Remus asked softly, still sounding concerned.

“We’ll always be alright.” He had his Moony back and it didn’t matter what he had to do, he was keeping him.

The rest of the day passed like a dream or a memory of earlier days. They picked up a few things from the joke shop and a bigger bag from the candy store. After lunch they visited Fortesque’s and had sundaes; Harry’s had gumballs that changed colors and Remus had a sundae with six different kinds of chocolate. Remus resisted picking out any new togs, but Sirius got two new robes and figured that he could talk Remus into a couple of hand me downs, and they’d found a Gryffindor jersey in Harry’s size. It was almost dark by the time they were ready to leave. All in all it was a pretty good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a lot of thinking about Alfie McGoo's Accidental Magic when I wrote this chapter and if you'll indulge me a moment I wanted to tell you about it here. I imagine it like a cross between Amelia Bedelia and Junie B Jones. They're chapter books, but short chapters and big font. There's sketches on every page, some simple (an owl flapping around) and some more detailed.
> 
> Alfie is a little boy about six, with a sister who is only a baby and can't do magic at all, not even by accident. When he's big he's going to get his own wand and go to school but now he only does magic by accident and it's not his fault when things go wrong and really it's not fair when he gets in trouble. In the first book he and his family get a new owl and they can't decide what her name should be. Alfie thinks they should ask the owl. Mum says you can't ask an owl because they don't talk, but Alfie says she's wrong. Next thing you know the owl is speaking and informing them that her name is Hedwig.
> 
> Alfie's accidental magic gets him into a lot of trouble (like when he doesn't want a bath and the water keeps turning into a cyclone in the bathroom) but in the end it usually ends up making something good happen. 
> 
> Years later when Harry is ready for school he finds a white owl and knows immediately that her name must be Hedwig. Three other children in his year have the same thought which leads to some confusion, but what can you do?


	17. A Decision Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus makes some decisions about the future.

“Come chop these tomatoes for me, Remus. We want the flesh but not the seeds.” Every few days Effie drew him into the kitchen, putting a knife or spoon into his hand and talking through a recipe from start to finish. He crushed herbs in a mortar and pestle, sweated onions, and diced vegetables. Sometimes Harry joined them, pulling up a chair to the counter so he could ‘help.’ Sometimes it was just the two of them. 

“You’ll be able to do this on your own soon. One of these days you’re going to make dinner for us all.” Effie picked out the spices she was looking for and opened each bottle, having him smell each one. “You’re a good student.

“I like learning things.” When he’d been little it had been about the distraction, leaving his body behind and losing himself in stories and later in spells. He could forget how sore he was, or the dread for the moon that started the moment it moved from waning to waxing. He could forget the sadness in his mum’s eyes or the worry in his dad’s voice. Later he grew to appreciate knowledge for its own sake, as well as for the practical application. 

“It’s good to know how to feed yourself.” She gave him a look that wasn’t so different from the way Sirius looked at him sometimes when he pushed a second helping on him, or brought him a snack, or straight out told him that he needed fattening up. Effie was more subtle, but somehow there was always chocolate on his bedside table and he didn’t think it was an accident that she kept asking him to taste things. “It’s good to feed others too. I made sure my Jamie knew how to cook. Best way to impress a date.”

“That’s not something I have to worry about.” He smiled a little as he remembered seventh year, a few weeks after they returned for Christmas when Jaems had insisted on making Lily dinner all by himself. It had taken an hour to convince the house elves to let him do it alone, and he and Sirius had a great time distracting the elves with popcorn and chocolate frogs while they watched like it was a muggle cooking show. The food hadn’t been half bad, actually.

“I hope that’s not true.” Effie set down her spoon and covered one of his hands with her own, stilling his motion on the whisk. “You are a good man, Remus. A loyal and kind friend, a good example for our Harry, and having you here has made a world of difference for Sirius. I can imagine why you might have reservations, but that’s not a reason to deny other people the chance to love you.

“My reservations are not without reasons.” He wouldn’t ever have children. It was a vow he’d made the first time he’d learned that there was a chance he could pass on his lycanthropy. There wasn’t enough research on the matter since so few werewolves had children, or at least admitted to it, but any chance at all was too much in his option. Full moon nights were bad enough, but there was also the chronic joblessness and the idea of his family being ostracized because of what he was. The fact that he was mostly attracted to men made the children issue less of a worry, but didn't change anything else.

“The right person will see through all that. There were people who told Monty that he was making a mistake, marrying a woman from India. Different cultures, different magics, and in those days there was a fair bit of racism even in our community. We ignored them all, but when we tried for children for years and I couldn't carry to term I began to think they might have been right. Surly someone else would have been better for him, made him happier, given him more. I actually packed, once, thinking that I would return to my father’s house. My Monty told me that I could go anywhere I wanted, but if I would not live with him he would buy a house next door to wherever I was, so I would always know where to find him. The only thing that mattered to him was that he loved me and I loved him.” She stood there for a moment without speaking before returning to her pot. When she spoke again her voice was laden with emotion. “Our Jamie wouldn’t want you to be alone.”

“James was lucky to have you as his mother.” His parents had loved him, he had never doubted that, but there was always the specter of this other child that separated them. This boy named Remus who hadn’t been bitten by a werewolf, his body whole, and nights with a full moon barely noticed rather than meaning being locked up in a basement and patched up the next day. And there were the other children too, the siblings he might have had if his existence hadn’t been a threat to everyone in the house.

“We were lucky to have him as our son, and blessed that we still have pieces of him here with us.”

“Harry is a wonderful child.” He couldn’t imagine what it would be like, to remember James at the same age. He had seven years before he would really see Harry looking the same as James.

“He is, but he’s not the only one that reminds me of my son. You and Sirius keep him alive too.” She was quiet after that, only speaking about the food and the recipe they were working on. Remus wasn’t sure if she was lost in her memories or leaving him to his own, but they worked in companionable silence until the meal was ready and Remus could reasonably make his excuses to leave. 

The hour before dinner gave him enough time for a long and much needed walk. It wasn’t new, someone telling him that he should have more than he expected. Certainly it had never occurred to his friends that his reason for rarely dating in school was anything other than a lack of interest. He’d never talked to them about children and marriage or lack thereof; other than Lily and James marriage had seemed something for later, that mythical time after the war.

What he couldn’t stop thinking about was the fact that James would be disappointed in him. Not in his lack of romantic attachments, he didn’t think James would have cared, but in the fact that he’d run away. And that, he had to admit to himself at least, was what he’d been doing for years. In school he’d never been able to get away with it for long, as his friends pushed past every wall he erected and pulled him into conversation, prank planning, and a lifelong friendship. He’d run when they learned his secret, and James had been the first to find him hiding in one of the secret passages. When Remus had refused to return to the dorm James had stayed with him, not even saying anything when Sirius called out for them, not until he’d convinced Remus that he was still their friend and that his secret was safe. And no, he wasn’t changing dorms or leaving the school. Clearly he’d learned well from his parents.

Family was simpler for James. Remus was family and therefore needed to be with them. It hadn’t mattered that someone was a spy. It hadn’t mattered that Remus was a werewolf or Sirius was a Black and his cousin was a favorite of Voldemort. He kept his family close. Knowing what Peter had done would have hurt James most of all, because he had so much faith in his friends. There was no room left for doubt. There was always room for forgiveness. 

“I’ll do better,” he promised, looking up at the sky. The bright sun always reminded him of James. Sirius was the night sky, full of stars and wonder and mystery, but James was a warm sunny sky, full of cheer and ready for a game of Quidditch. “I’ll protect Harry and Sirius and I won’t run away again.”

In the quiet of the forest there wasn’t even an echo, and no one to hear him. Only himself, but if there was one person who needed to listen it was himself.

If he was going to stay he was going to need to make some plans, and Sirius was not going to be happy.

II

Remus was making a list. Sirius knew he was the moment he saw him, head leaned forward and quill scratching against the parchment. Moony had a very specific look for making a list and Sirius had seen it a thousand times. Someone could make a whole library out of the lists that Remus has written in his life.

“Let me guess, arranging your favorite ice cream flavors in alphabetical order?” Sirius leaned over Remus’ shoulder. Really if it was private at all then he should know better than to work on it in a public place. The moment he saw the list his nose wrinkled and his hands tightened into fists, ready to do battle with some invisible enemy. “What kind of crap is this?”

“Just sorting some things out.” Remus turned over the piece of parchment, but it was pointless. Sirius had seen the whole page and it wasn’t hard to remember. It might as well be a list of things to make Sirius Black want to throw dishes against a wall.

“Nothing there needs sorted.” He waved his wand at the doors of the library, closing them and adding a silencing charm. Harry was kneading dough in the kitchen and Sirius wasn’t sure how loud their conversation would get. Knowing how stubborn Remus was, the answer could be ‘very.’ Not that Remus would yell, no he would stay frustratingly calm and bite back any real emotion, smothering it until he reached a point where he’d run from it or really explode. 

“Is there any chance we can talk about this rationally?” Remus turned in his chair.

“Sure, if you want to rationally toss that piece of parchment in the fireplace.” 

“That’s not going to happen, Padfoot, but let me explain at least. I want to stay.”

“That’s not what it says on your list.” The second item, under finding a job, was to find a flat to rent.

“I don’t mean here, in the house. I mean I want to stay. No more running around the world. No more missed holidays. I want to settle down. I want to see Harry on his first day of school next fall and I want to help decorate the Christmas tree and I want to be able to spend a random Saturday wandering Diagon with you. I don’t want to miss another birthday with my best friend. I’ve missed too many already.”

“Too right you have.” If it weren’t for the damn list he’d be pretty happy right now. “But none of that necessitates you moving out.”

“I need my own place, Pads. I promise it won’t be far away.” Remus stood up so they were almost the same height. “I’m going to do the study at St. Mungos. After the first couple of months of transformations if all goes well I’ll be able to stay in my own home. But I won’t do that here. I don’t care how many safety precautions there are, I’m not transforming in the same home as a child.”

“We can go to Wales for full moons.” They could get the cottage back on the floo network to make it easier.

“I’m selling the farm. I can’t pay for the upkeep and it’s silly to have a place I only visit once a month.”

“But…”

“It doesn’t matter, Sirius. It hasn’t been my home for a long time.” Sirius knew Remus was more sentimental than that. Sirius would be happy to burn down his childhood home, but Remus loved the little farm where he’d been raised.

“I’m sorry, Moony.” Too much of his life seemed to be about giving up things.

“It’s really okay, Pads. I didn’t think of it that much when I was traveling. I had dreams sometimes about Hogwarts, or about Godrick’s Hollow. Once or twice I would dream I was in that horrible little flat you had in Croydon.”

“Oi, I loved that place.” It had been dingy, but it had been his and if the wallpaper was peeling it was from honest neglect and water stains, not because it was put up a century ago by some ancestor that had cursed it to stay in place. There was only one bedroom but the first year and a half after school one of his mates usually slept on the sofa, usually Remus. James had cooked meals there and they’d all crowded around his tiny table with beer and food and they’d been together.

“Yeah, I did too.” Remus smiled wistfully. “Maybe I’ll look for a place near there.”

“It’s too far away.” London was better than South America or even Wales, but he liked having Remus down the hall. He couldn’t just pop over to London anytime he wanted. “Can we compromise?”

“Excuse me for a minute, I think I need to go clean out my ears. I thought I just heard Sirius Black say the word compromise.”

“Berk.” Sure, he might have been in a habit of demanding that things were done his way, but he’d been younger then and only responsible for himself. With a four year old to raise he’d had to learn a thing or two about compromise. “Do you want to mock me or do you want to hear my idea?”

“Is there a reason I can’t do both?” Remus’ shoulders were relaxing, now that the fuse seemed to have been taken out of their conversation. Sirius still wasn’t happy, especially about the experiment, but things didn’t seem quite so tense. Maybe it was the fact that Remus was making actual plans to stay that had diffused things. “Alright, Pads, what’s this compromise of yours?”

“There’s a gamekeeper's cabin at the edge of the forest. Not sure you remember it, since it’s out of view of the house, but it hasn’t been used much for decades.” He and James had used it as boys, when they’d wanted to try smoking. It was where they first started their research on animagus. He and Harry had used it a few times when it was raining out. Mostly, though, it was abandoned. “It wouldn’t take much to get it fixed up. It’s not much, but it’s better than a flat in Croyden. You could pay Monty rent if you felt like it was necessary.”

“I didn’t realize it was on Potter land.” Which was fair, if one didn’t realize how big the estate really was. “I won’t make any promises, but I’ll think about it, alright?”

“I don’t suppose you’ll also reconsider the St. Mungo’s thing?” 

“No,” he said decisively, and out of long experience Sirius knew that once Moony had made a decision it was close to impossible to get him to change his mind. That didn’t mean he was going to stop trying.

“I’m still spending the moons with you.” He could be just as stubborn. And if he was there at least if something went wrong he could go for help.

“I have to be at a Mungo’s, the first couple of moons while they assess the effects of the potion.”

“I really really hate this, Moony. Every single part of it.” He’d missed too many moons already, and it was bad enough knowing that Remus was alone, but this was worse. This was people with clipboards watching and treating his best friend like an animal in a study, not a human with dignity.

“It’s only for the first few times.” He repeated it like a mantra. Sirius vowed that no matter how much he hated it he’d be there as much as he could. He’d pick Remus up at St Mungo’s every morning after, much like they’d picked him up from the hospital wing in school.

“That’s a few times too many.” The list was still on the desk. Sirius went over to grab it and the quill, bringing them over to the sofa. Second on the list where it said to find a flat he crossed out flat and wrote ‘gamekeeper cabin.’ Next to the note about St Mungo’s he drew a dog with a frown. There was a line about talking to Dumbledore and it took most of his control not to scratch that out viciously. He hated the idea of Remus talking to Dumbledore. In his darker moments he hated Dumbledore.

The parchment was still half empty, so Sirius added to it. 

_ Go to the pub with Sirius _

_ Buy Sirius a birthday present _

_ Read books to Harry _

_ Make a chocolate cake _

_ Take a walk _

He continued until the page was full, many of the suggestions silly. He was tempted to write ‘kiss Sirius’ to see what would happen, but he wondered if the moment to figure out about the kiss had passed already. He didn’t dare ask and throw off the tentative balance they had. For the moment the fact that Remus was planning on staying around had to be enough.


	18. Serious Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Trial begins for Peter and Remus issues a warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing the scene between Remus and Harry but it killed me emotionally too.

PETER PETTIGREW ON TRIAL AT LAST: WAS HE UNDER A CURSE OR THE ARCHITECT OF HIS OWN DOWNFALL? 

The Daily Profit always arrived early in the morning. Remus was glad because it meant he could take a peek before anyone else was up and no one minded if he took out the want-ads. It was easier to look at both jobs and flats when Sirius wasn’t around and couldn’t give him that pleading puppy dog look that he had to fight to resist.

On this particular morning in late September, not quite a month after he’d returned, the picture on the front page made his guts burn with acid. It was Peter, half hidden in the shadows of a cell, his face twisting as if fighting the urge to transform. The trial was beginning.

“Who’s that?” Harry was the other resident morning lark, and now that Remus was around Sirius had happily abdicated the pre-breakfast hours of Harry minding. On days when it wasn’t raining they took walks while Remus told the boy stories of far away places. On wet days they sat in front of the fire, Harry on his knee. There wasn’t anything he’d felt before that compared to having a small boy snuggled against him, trusting him so completely. Sometimes the story he told was a new one, sometimes Harry demanded a repeat and liked to shout out the bits he remembered. This morning was nice enough for a walk, but they were waylaid by the delivery owl. 

“No one important,” Remus lied. He and Sirius had never talked about what Harry knew of his parents’ deaths and Remus didn’t think it was his place to say anything. His own stories to Harry never included Peter or why he’d stayed away for so long. 

“He doesn’t look very nice.” Harry poked at the picture on the front page. Remus instinctually pulled it away, which was silly because a photograph that had been copied over thousands of times didn’t hold any power to harm. At least not physically.

“I think you’re right, Harry. What do you say we toss him right into the rubbish bin? No need to bring him into the house.” He would tell Sirius, of course. It wasn’t fair to let him get caught off guard if he heard the news somewhere else, or when they released the findings. There was no reason for the sensationalized story. Even just skimming the first page he could tell that someone had more interest in scandal than facts.

“Can I do it?” Harry laughed as he was picked up and Remus levitated the lid off the bin. The newspaper went in and Remus made sure there were a few things covering it. Once in the bin it was completely forgotten by Harry, who wanted to go on a walk. Remus wished it was so easy to put it behind for the rest of the people in the house.

“Shall we head for the forest today?” He’d so far avoided looking at the gamekeeper’s cottage, but it seemed like a day for it. There were only a few days before he had to start reporting to St. Mungo’s for nine days of potions and after that he wasn’t sure how he’d be feeling. The healer he’d spoken to had warned that others had found the first month especially exhausting.

“Are we going on a long walk?” Harry asked, excited. Short walks meant staying in the garden. Long walks meant exploration and adventure.

“Seems a good day for it. No rain in the forecast.” His joints were rather good at telling him when there was rain expected.

“I’m gonna race.” What Harry was racing he never said. It didn’t seem to bother him that Remus never tried to keep up with him. At some point he would tire himself out, or more likely find something distracting. Today it was a gate that he couldn’t open on his own.

“Need some help?”

“I never seed this here before.” Harry shook the gate. It was clearly far older than his four years, and quite possibly older than Remus’ twenty-four, but it wasn’t anything particularly memorable. It was far enough from the house that Harry probably didn’t come this way often, and with a bit of magical reinforcement it could make a good security fence. By necessity he knew a fair number of charms to repel werewolves.

“Padfoot says there’s a house up here.” He pointed down the path, and once the gate was open Harry was happy to run again.

“It’s a little house.” Harry came running back towards him, not bothering to slow down. Remus braced himself to catch the boy. “I ‘member playing here before when I was little.”

It was indeed a little house, not that different from Hagrid’s hut back in school. It was built of stone walls that would last for centuries but a thatch roof that was decaying badly. The squat doorway was framed by glassless windows and inside there were two rooms. Harry was the first to go into the back room, presumably meant as a bedroom. When he came out he looked puzzled.

“He’s not here.”

“Who, Padfoot? I’m sure he’s still sleeping.” Sirius had never been fond of mornings. It was a lucky thing that in seven years transfiguration had never been the first class of the day. McGonagall would not have been pleased with the tardiness and napping.

“No, the wolf. Padfoot said that the little house would be a good place for a wolf to sleep and Nani said that she wouldn’t take any money for it but that’s silly. Animals don’t have money, do they uncle Remus?”

“Not usually.” Remus frowned, feeling strange to know that Sirius and Effie had been discussing him. “Sirius was just joking about wolves, though. There aren’t any here.”

“I wish there were. Padfoot says that wolves are his favoritest animals, even more than dogs and he can turn into a dog. A big black one even bigger than me. I never seen a real wolf before but Padfoot says he knows a real one.” It was the idle patter of a child, but Remus felt his heart fall into his stomach. It was one thing for Sirius to joke and tease about the wolf, he was well used to that, but Harry couldn’t possibly understand.

“Come here, Harry. I need to talk to you about something.” The table in the main part of the kitchen was missing a leg and sloped to one side, but at least one chair was functional enough to use. Remus picked up Harry and sat him on it, crouching down to face him so they were on the same level. “I need your very best listening right now.”

Harry cupped his hands around both ears. Sitting so close Remus could see the scar on his forehead that was barely visible, thanks to the healing spells his grandmother had done on him, but it would never fade completely. Some scars always remained, and Remus knew that better than most people. “I can listen real good.”

“I know you can, Harry. I’m going to tell you something really important right now, okay?”

“Okay.” Harry nodded.

“I know that Sirius says that he likes wolves and it’s okay to like them too, in books or in the zoo.” He’d never been able to handle going to zoos and seeing all those animals in cages. It made him ill. “But wolves are very dangerous.”

“More dangerous than fire?” Harry looked down at his hand. There wasn’t a mark anymore but a week ago he’d been fascinated by a candle and had learned an important lesson about fire.

“Yes, Harry, more dangerous than fire. If you ever see a wolf for real I want you to promise me that you will run away as fast as you can, and you will yell for Padfoot as loud as you can. Will you promise me?” If anything happened to Harry he would never be able to live with himself. He’d made James a promise to protect his son, and he’d meant it, even and especially when it came to protecting Harry from himself.

“Can I yell for you too?” Harry asked innocently, and it took Remus a moment before he had the breath back in his lungs to answer.

“No, Harry. If there’s a wolf you need to get to Padfoot as fast as you can.” He would be at St. Mungo’s for the next three or four transformations at least, but it was never too soon to make sure Harry understood. He wasn’t that much younger than Remus had been, when he’d been attacked. “Do you understand?”

“Uh-huh. I run really really fast and I yell really really loud for Padfoot.”

“That’s a good lad.” He let his shoulders relax a little and tousled the black hair that never settled flat, just like his father. Inside his pocket was a bar of chocolate and he broke off a couple of pieces, offering one to Harry. It was important that Harry knew he was serious, but he didn’t want to scare the boy. 

They spent a little more time exploring the cottage before returning to the house for breakfast, finding everyone in the kitchen. Monty was muttering something about his newspaper missing. Remus decided it could wait until after they ate. No one needed the specter of Peter’s trial looming over them at breakfast.

“Remus let me have chocolate before breakfast,” Harry declared as he sat at the table between Sirius and his grandfather.

“I remember more than a few times when Remus had chocolate for breakfast.” Sirius grinned across the table at Remus. “Which is not a good idea, of course.”

“No, it’s not,” Remus agreed ironically. The last time he’d had chocolate for breakfast wasn’t that long ago. It was quick energy, and on a very bad morning it didn’t even require chewing, it just melted on his tongue.

“What was the occasion?” Effie passed a basket of roti around the table.

“We were visiting the gamekeeper cottage and I needed to test out the table and chairs.” Remus hoped the explanation would be enough. “There are a few repairs needed.”

“We can find someone to fix it up. Sirius said you might be interested in staying there, though Effie and I are happy to have you stay just where you are.” 

“I can do the work.” He would try to get them to accept rent, but even if they didn’t he wasn’t about to let them spend any money on repairs, not when the only reason was for him to stay there.

“How comed you said there was wolves there Padfoot? Remus says they don’t live there.” Harry’s mouth twisted into a frown that looked more like his mum than James. Then again it could be that he’d seen a lot more annoyed Lily in his life than annoyed James.

Sirius laughed and mouthed ‘not yet’ at Remus before turning to his godson. “Maybe they’ve moved on, sprog.”

“Remus says if I see a wolf I have to run away and find you and yell really loud.” Harry quickly lost interest in the conversation, turning his attention to his food and not seeming to notice that everyone else around him had frozen. Remus wished he could be so unaware, but he could feel three pairs of eyes on him.

“He needs to know. He was talking about wanting to see a wolf.” The only person that Remus could comfortably look at was Sirius. He wasn’t quite sure what he would see if he looked at Monty or Effie. They knew, of course. They’d know what he was for years, but knowing something in a vague way from stories and being confronted by it over the breakfast table were very different things. Sirius understood as well as anyone could without being a wolf.

“Moony is right, Harry. That’s exactly what you should do.” Sirius didn’t look at Harry, though. He kept his eyes locked on Remus. “If you come and find me I can make sure the wolf is safe as well. Wolves like to think they are solitary creatures but the truth is they do best when they are with a friend.”

“They do best when they know that people are safe.” It was the most important thing, always. He knew without question that Sirius would protect Harry. They might argue about other things when it came to full moons and wolves and potions, but at least that was something that went without question.

“Does this mean you’re interested in the cottage, Remus dear?” Remus looked down at his plate, but after a minute the silence was ended by Effie’s deliberate question. 

“Only if you’ll let me pay you rent.” If the potions worked like promised the cottage would be just as safe as any flat in town. If not then he’d have to find a place to transform that was farther away.

“You would be doing us a favor, my boy. It’s been neglected for years and a bit of attention will make it safer. We won’t hear of you paying us anything.” In lieu of his paper Monty was scribbling something on his napkin. 

“You can take a turn with dinners. I can’t trust this one in the kitchen,” she looked pointedly at Sirius, “but it would be nice to have an evening off.”

“Trust me, I know what Sirius can do to a kitchen. I lost my sense of smell for a week one time when he tried to make pizza.”

“I have other talents,” Sirius said with a shrug and a wink. If Remus had been anyone else he might have thought that Sirius was flirting, but he knew Sirius and ignored him, glad to be able to focus on his meal and excuse himself from breakfast. He needed some time alone.

‘Alone’ lasted for less than a minute before Sirius caught him halfway up the stairs. “About Harry…”

“I’m sorry if I was stepping on your toes but he needed to know. It’s one thing to enjoy some storybook idea of a wolf and quite another to…”

“Moony, I’m doing this whole guardian thing by the seat of my pants. Please step on my toes or any other body part you need to when it comes to Harry. James and I benefited greatly from you helping to raise us, and Harry needs your influence. I’m sure if Lily had a clue that I might actually have to raise her kid she and James would have picked someone else, and by someone I mean you.” Sirius followed him up the stairs to Remus’ room. “That’s not what I meant. I wanted to apologize. That shouldn’t have been something you had to explain to Harry. It was my fault he was talking about wolves.”

“You didn’t mean any harm by it.” If there was one circumstance where his usually suspicious friend was too trusting, it was in his belief that the wolf wouldn’t hurt anyone. Sirius wanted to protect Remus, rather than understanding that it was everyone else that needed to be protected from him. “It was fine, Pads. He’s a curious lad and I answered some questions. I made sure not to make it sound scary.”

“Of course you did.” Sirius grabbed the arm of his cardigan where the knitting at the elbows had been patched with a spare bit of leather. “I’m not worried about how he feels, he’s clearly fine and I trust you. I’m worried about how you feel. That couldn’t have been a comfortable conversation.”

“I know what I am, Sirius.” 

“I know what you are too, Remus. You’re the best human I know. The kindest person. You just so happen to also have a furry little problem once a month.” Sirius reached up and touched a scar on his cheek that hadn’t been there a few years ago. Remus stayed completely still and let him. The touch was gentle and warm, and he was feeling the winter cold in his bones. 

“Those rose-colored glasses you wear are going to cause you trouble some day.” Remus shook his head, dislodging the touch. “It was alright, Padfoot. Really.”

“I’m glad you’re going to take the cottage if you’re not going to stay in the house. We should walk out later and you can make one of your lists about what needs to be repaired. Harry and I will help,” Sirius offered, much as Remus had expected.

“You were wrong, by the way.” he stopped Sirius before he turned to leave.

“I’m never wrong.” 

He gave Sirius a well-deserved eye roll.

“Harry was born in the middle of a war. Lily and James knew they might not raise their son and they chose you to be his godfather. It wasn’t an accident.” Later he would need to tell Sirius about the trial, but at the moment it mattered less than making Sirius understand.

II

Sirius told himself, as well as Remus, that he wasn’t going anywhere near the Ministry during the trail. They weren’t being called as witnesses and weren’t required, and there was no reason. It wouldn’t change anything, and he certainly didn’t need to see Peter. There were dozens of reasons not to go, including not being seen by anyone and not reminding people that Sirius Black, former friend of the defendant, was raising his best friend’s son. It was bad enough that the trial would mean people were talking about James and Lily again. 

And yet he couldn’t stay away.

On the second day of the trial he made an excuse to leave the house, one that he was pretty certain Remus saw through. He waited until the trail had started before slipping into the room, sitting at the highest point of the room where hopefully very few people would notice him.

“Didn’t think you’d be able to stay away, Black.” Moody was the first to notice him, his voice thankfully quiet as he watched the trail with one eye and looked at Sirius with the other. “It’s not real if you don’t see it with your own eyes.”

“I didn’t need to convince myself that it was real.” He wasn’t sure what he needed, or why he’d come. He didn’t want to talk to Peter. Didn’t even want to look at him, really. The last time he’d seen the man he’d trusted they had been aiming wands at each other and he’d had an unforgivable curse in his heart and on the tip of his tongue. Three years later and the only thing that had changed was that he knew death was too good for Peter. He didn’t want something so simple for the man who had sold out his family. He wanted Peter to suffer.

“There’s a spell on the chair. He can’t transform. There’s no escaping for him,” Moody seemed to understand, perhaps better than he did. 

“And when this is over?” he asked softly, looking down at the man he barely recognized, the once golden hair now limp and stringy, the face a perversion of what it had been once. The exterior, he thought to himself, finally matched what was inside.

“When it’s over it won’t matter what form he takes in Azkaban. Nothing can escape, not even a rat.” Moody turned to look at him with both eyes. “That might have been a sign, you know, his inner animal being a rat.”

“Might have been,” Sirius muttered. If he spent too long thinking about missed signals he might never sleep again. The air in the room felt too thick, and despite only having sat down a few minutes ago Sirius stood up to leave. Whatever it was he needed to see couldn’t be found by staying longer. “You’ll let me know, won’t you?”

“You’ll know,” Moody agreed without actually making a promise. 

Sirius left the room without looking at Peter again. He’d gotten out before Peter had spoken, and it was a relief not to hear any lies or justifications. He didn’t care. Unlike Remus he didn’t need to understand, he just wanted Peter banished to a place where he could never hurt anyone again.

“Ah, Mr. Black it’s been some time, hasn’t it?” Sirius stiffened when he heard the familiar voice behind him. It wasn’t expected or welcome.

“Headmaster.” He turned to greet Dumbledore for the first time in well over a year. He hadn’t seen much of his old headmaster since the war had ended and the Order had been officially disbanded.

“Minerva and I were just talking about you the other day. She was telling me that Mr. Lupin has returned to England. I’m sure you’re relieved.” Dumbledore was smiling in that way that made most people underestimate him. Sirius knew him too well, and could see the sharpness in his expression.

“I’m always glad when he’s home and not on some mission, whether it’s his own choice or someone else’s.” It was hard to look at the man knowing what he had manipulated Remus into doing. Remus had always been blindly loyal when it came to their headmaster and Dumbledore knew that. He’d used it.

“It’s a strange thing, isn’t it, to have those we care about withheld from our sight. It can make us see things differently.”

“I need to get home to my godson.” He didn’t have an interest in Dumbledore’s mindgames. “And I assume you have a trial you need to go watch. One of your pawns didn’t quite line up how you intended, did it?”

“I deeply regret that Mr. Pettigrew…”

“I don’t think they’ll be so formal in Azkaban, do you? Somehow I can’t see the dementors bothering to ask what Mr. Pettigrew would like for supper.” It might have been him, if things were different. Three years ago he’d been the one in the cell. He’d been innocent and Dumbledore hadn’t said a word. It was only down to Effie that he was free. ”And it’s years too late for regrets."

He needed fresh air. Not caring how he left things with Dumbledore he turned his back, leaving the man behind as he headed for the fireplaces. He flooed to the Three Broomsticks rather than home and spent an hour wandering the village that had meant so much when he was in school. It was his first real taste of freedom, those unsupervised Saturday trips with his friends. He didn’t have any particular destination in mind, but did stop to pick up some chocolate. Remus would be starting his first nine nights of the potion and though he hadn’t said much Sirius knew he was nervous. Chocolate always helped.

When he apparated home he was in the upstairs hallways, only a few meters from his own door but standing directly in front of James’ room. It had been almost three years since he’d been inside but he found himself using an _alhamora_ on the door. Inside were rows of boxes, neatly stacked and labeled in Monty’s writing. One said ‘James clothes’ and another ‘Lily cookbooks.’ There were boxes for the kitchen, the bedroom, the den. They’d packed methodically and mechanically, with little discussion. Everything that hadn’t been destroyed from Godric’s Hollow had been packed except for the things that belonged to Harry. 

The rest of the room was as James had left it when he’d been nineteen and had moved in with Lily. The spell that had made shooting stars move across the ceiling had long since worn off, but the walls were still gold. Quidditch posters covered one wall, bookcases another. The desk looked like James might return to do his homework at any moment. Sirius settled on the bed, feeling stiff and tired. And old. He felt very old. When they had been kids he’d liked to rib James about being older by four months, especially when he turned 17 and got to point out every single day that he was an adult and James was not. Now, though, James would never get older than twenty-one. Sirius would be twenty-five in a few months.

“Padfoot?” Sirius wasn’t sure how long he was in the room but somehow Remus was there in the doorway, looking worried.

“I used to come in here every night, the first month after we moved it all in. I’d count the boxes and make sure they were all here. I didn’t open any, I just needed to know that nothing had happened to their things.” Their life in Godric’s Hollow fit in seventeen boxes. James had more, his essence all over the house where he’d grown up, but Sirius didn’t know if anything of Lily’s existed outside of this room. Her parents were dead and her sister was a pruny faced jealous little arse who probably tried to forget she had a sister. Petunia hadn’t even come to the wedding. Sirius hadn’t seen her since he escorted James and Lily to a visit right before they went into hiding. Lily’s sister hadn’t said a word about missing her sister or being happy to meet Harry, and Lily had cried when they’d returned home.

“You went to the trial.” Remus closed the door to the room behind him. It was only then that Sirius realized that he’d left it open. Remus sat on the bed next to him, not quite touching but close enough if Sirius needed to reach out.

“I needed to see him.” He hadn’t expected it, the need to see Peter as he was now. Maybe he needed to cement it all in his mind before it could be over. If anyone would understand him, even when he didn’t understand himself, it was Remus.

“I would have gone with you.” 

“I was only there for a few minutes. I didn’t want to hear him, or watch. I just...” Sirius shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” Remus played with the quilt on the bed where a thread was loose. He pulled at it absently and then stopped, focusing enough to repair it with a wordless spell. “I know.”

“I haven’t been in this room for a couple of years. It’s strange how it hasn’t changed.”

“Except that it’s been hoovered, and the bed’s made.” Remus leaned over, bumping their shoulders together briefly. “Between you and James we never could see the dorm floor.”

“It added character and doubled as an alarm. No one was going to sneak up on us without being heard.”

“No one was going to sneak up on us without getting some sort of disease from the dirty dishes and questionable potions experiments all over the place.” 

Sirius laughed. The floor had been pretty bad except for about a meter around Remus’ bed and a clear patch at one side of Peter’s bed. It was true that James’ room was usually only clean while he was away at school and Effie cleaned it up. “Speaking of flooring, Moony, have you started on the cottage yet?”

“Other than ascertaining that the three legged table can’t be saved? Not really. Effie keeps coming up to my room with things for me to take. Cast offs, she calls them, but the curtains she had for me this morning were still in wrapping and the bed that’s been gathering dust in the attic is an eighteenth century antique.”

“We should go get started. I’ve learned more about repairing charms since Harry was a toddler and a bit tough on things. You would not imagine how many times I have to fix his glasses for him.” Sitting too long in James’ bedroom wasn’t good for him. He was already too aware of what he’d lost and what he would never have. But he had Moony back, and would do everything in his power to make sure he was sticking around.

“Now you know how I felt every time you broke something. I kept track fourth year on the curtain rod in our room. I used  _ repario _ twenty-three times on the poor thing.” Remus stood and held out a hand to Sirius. “I have the afternoon free but I have to be at St. Mungo’s at half past five. It’s nine days until the full.”

“I could come with you.” He accepted Remus’ hand and stood up, taking one last look around the room before following Remus out and shutting the door, locking it with a spell so Harry didn’t wander in.

“Don’t be daft. I’m only gone an hour and there’s no point waiting around for me. I’ll be back in time for supper.”

“You’re drinking a potion. Why does that take a full hour?” The potion regiment required that it be taken for nine nights, ending on the night of the full moon. No dose could be missed and the potion had to be made fresh each day. Sirius had read everything he could on it, but that was precious little. Mostly he had researched the separate ingredients, digging out his seventh year potions book. It hadn’t put his mind at rest.

“They want to observe for any reactions.” Remus shrugged.

“You’ll come back by floo after, right?” He didn’t like the idea of Remus apparating with unknown side effects to a new potion.

“Yes, mum.” Remus rolled his eyes, but laughed as they headed out to the garden. Sirius, focused on his concerns about Remus, forgot about the morning’s trial completely.


	19. Mungo's Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first time at Mungo's for the moon

“It’s time.” They spent six hours at the cottage with a break for tea, Remus focusing on cleaning spells and Sirius making small repairs. While the place wasn’t yet habitable it did look like there was potential now. Only one floorboard creaked, a family of mice had been relocated, and spiders mourning the loss of their webs had decided to move out to the trees.

“I don’t mind waiting if you’ve changed your mind about company.” Sirius, a smudge of dirt across his cheek and his hair back in a bun looked at him expectantly. Remus shook his head. 

“They won’t let you in the ward.” Sirius knew more about him than anyone in the world, but even if they would let him in Remus would say no. Being around other werewolves always made him feel strange and out of place, caught between two parts of himself. He never felt like he fit in with them, being trained as a wizard, but knew that they were connected by blood. And perhaps he didn’t want Sirius to see the ways in which he really was more like them, his fellow dark creatures, than he ever liked to consider. “You could make me a cuppa when I get back. This potion apparently doesn’t taste good and they can’t add sugar without neutralizing some of the elements.”

“If you’re not back by half six I’ll storm the fort, teacup in hand.” 

“And you’ll frighten the staff with your looks alone.” Remus touched the smudge on his cheek, but it was too stubborn to come off with a swipe of his thumb. It did mean a lot that Sirius was willing to come, especially considering that the patience to sit in a waiting room for an hour was not his strength. “You should have a washing up, Pads.”

“You might also consider looking in the mirror before you leave, Moony. You’ve got a collection of spiderwebs in your hair.” When Sirius reached up to point them out one of his fingers brushed the outer shell of Remus’ ear. It was a touch that might have tickled if Remus wasn’t so hyper-aware every time Sirius touched him. 

“I’d best hurry, then. Don’t want to be late.” He pulled away a little too quickly and headed for the cottage door.

“Be safe, Moony.” Sirius was so sincere that it threw Remus off balance and he forgot about the cobwebs completely, apparating directly to St. Mungo’s.

To anyone without magic St. Mungo’s looked like a long-abandoned department store. Remus, rather than entering the main floor, found the side corridor and opened the door that said ‘janitor’ on it. Most wizards only ever saw the main six floors and weren’t aware of the basement levels. He was headed for basement one, where the research was done. In nine days he would be assigned one of the cells in basement two, containment of dangerous creatures.

“Name?” The registration witch looked rather bored, focused more on the bubble she was blowing then the line of people she was assisting.

“Lupin, Remus John.” He signed his name where she pointed and followed the hallway to a room where a dozen other people sat. There was no one he recognized, which was a relief. The pack he’d traveled with wasn’t the type to be interested in a study even if they knew about it, but he didn’t want news to find its way back to Greyback. It was too much to hope that the man thought he was dead. They were called one by one, giving him time to observe his fellow experimentees. The oldest of the group was a wizened old man with white hair and thick scars overlapping on his arms. He might have been eighty, or closer to fifty. Remus considered his own grey hairs, and guessed closer to fifty. The youngest was a woman who looked like she might still be in school, if she’d ever gone.

“Drink it all, make sure you swallow. No vomiting, no adding anything to the cup, and when it’s empty you’ll need to stay for an hour and answer a healer’s questions before you leave.” Remus listened to the directions which weren’t any different than he’d already been told. The potion was bitter and the steam filled his nose with the scent of rotten plants, but he managed to get it all down. The aftertaste was almost as bad. Thankfully he’d remembered to bring a book to read and distract himself. They weren’t allowed to eat anything until they left.

The questions he had to answer before leaving were simple. There was little to say other than the fact that it did indeed taste badly. His answer was the same after the second day and the third, other than noting that his dreams seemed more vivid. On the fourth day he had to admit that he felt noticeably more tired. When he stood to leave he felt dizzy and had to sit again, and was kept behind for an extra hour with two other participants. The time helped a little with his lightheadedness but only made him more tired.

“Moony?” Sirius, as always, was waiting in the library, this time with a cup of tea that had long since gone cold.

“Just a little tired.” He tried to brush it off as nothing, but in truth when he looked at the staircase he dreaded each step. His feet weighed a stone apiece and it would take a herculean task to get himself to his room.

“Sure you are, Moons. You’re just a little tired and Kilimanjaro is just a bit of a hill.” Remus didn’t notice much of what he was saying, really, but he felt the arm around his waist and understood what Sirius was saying enough to loop his own arm around his friend’s neck.

“Might need a bit of a nap before supper,” he muttered as he focused on lifting his feet. One step and then another, which was easier with Sirius at his side. He had no understanding of how long it took to get up the stairs, but finally all that remained was the steps to his room. If only the door would stop getting so much farther away.

“You can nap as soon as we get you to bed. Not here in the hall, Remus. I need you to wake up a bit.”

“I’m awake.” He could sleep on his feet, though. He’d learned how in the years after school, when sometimes it was the only way to catch some sleep without anyone knowing he was vulnerable.

“You’re full of half truths tonight, mate.” Finally, there was something soft under him. The mattress, it seemed.

“Now I can sleep.”

“As soon as I get your shoes off. You wouldn’t want to break your own rules, would you Remus? I know how unhappy you are when anyone sits on a bed with their shoes on.” Sirius listened to him more than he realized sometimes. He did hate it when anyone wore shoes to bed. The sheets deserved more respect than that.

“Thank you, Padfoot.” His shoes seemed to help themselves off, or else it was Sirius who did it for him. “‘m cold.”

“I can help with that. Let’s get you under the blankets.” The best thing about the Potter’s beds were the wealth of blankets.

“You’re warmer.” He was tired of only blankets to keep him warm. Already he missed the weight of Sirius’ arm around his waist. “Stay?”

“Of course, Moony. You only have to ask.” Sirius slid in behind him, arm once again around his waist. It was all he remembered before he fell asleep. When he woke the clock on the wall said it was almost ten, the curtains were drawn, and Sirius was poking him.

“I’d let you sleep all night except I know you haven’t had anything since a jam sandwich at lunch.” His appetite had been off, which was probably something he should have mentioned to the healer but it hadn’t occurred to him as being unusual. When he sat up he found a tray placed across his lap with a bowl of barley soup, two slices of buttered toast, tea, and a slice of chocolate cake. There hadn’t been any cake in the kitchen when he’d left, so Effie must have done some baking.

“I could have come down for dinner.”

“I tried, mate. You were dead to the world and muttered some sort of threat if I didn’t leave you alone. Since I prefer my bollocks where they are, I let you be for a couple of hours.” Sirius settled at the end of the bed, legs crossed. “They’re getting worse, aren’t they? The side effects of the damn potion.”

“It’s not that bad,” Remus said with a shrug, not looking at Sirius while he took a bite of the soup. It took some effort to keep his hand from shaking. “You know I always get tired before the moon.”

“Not like this. Only time I’ve seen you this exhausted was when you had year-end exams the same week as a moon, or that time you should have been at hospital but refused because the moon was the next day.” Sirius picked up a triangle of toast absently, but as he spoke he viciously broke it into little pieces. “It’s not worth it if you spend a week a month too exhausted to do anything.”

“It’s just the first time. That’s the whole point of a trial, to work out the kinks.” Sirius made a sound like it didn’t agree, but thankfully didn’t say anything more about it.

“Harry came and gave you a goodnight kiss. He wanted to have a sleepover since you were already in bed but I explained that a sleepover when one person was already asleep defeated the purpose of the whole thing. Don’t be surprised when he asks you about tents and campfires and cooking over a fire. He knows it will have to wait until next week.” Remus wasn’t certain what his facial expression said, but Sirius was frowning at him.

“What?” He took a sip of his tea, glad of the sweetness. The potion seemed to leave a taste of bitterness in his mouth for hours and he didn’t dare take any chocolate with him to eat post potion.

“You looked surprised when I said Harry came in to say goodnight. You always look surprised when someone pays attention to you or shows that they like you, which is ridiculous.”

“He’s only known me for a few weeks.” He dismissed the rest of the comment without addressing it. Sirius wasn’t entirely wrong, and they both knew it. 

“He’d know you since the day he was born, he just doesn’t remember that bit. And for the last three years you’ve been some sort of international Santa librarian sending him toys and books from around the globe. But what really matters is that you spend time with him. Every single day he tells me about what you did together in the morning. He always wants to know when he gets his next Remus story. He loves you, Remus. It was probably in his blood already, because James and Lily loved you, but all you had to do was be yourself.” Sirius tossed the bread he’d been playing with back onto the breakfast tray. “You’re a bit thick sometimes, you know that?”

“I love him too, you know? Not because of Prongs. Just, you know, because he’s Harry.” The fact that Harry liked him was still something he didn’t quite understand, but he could still treasure it.

“I know, Moony. I feel the same.” 

Sirius waited until enough food was gone to make him happy, urging him to eat a little more when he slowed down. Finally, Remus had to insist that he was full even though half the cake remained. He needed sleep.

“Will the blankets be warm enough for you?” Sirius asked before he left.

“Of course, that’s what blankets are for.” It was an odd question, but Sirius seemed half surprised by the answer. Remus didn’t have the energy to figure out why.

The next three days were much the same. He slept in late, missing his mornings with Harry but trying to make up for it with stories after lunch. The afternoons were better and they worked on the cottage until he had to leave. By the time he got home he was good for very little, lucky if he could stay up on the sofa and watch Harry play before supper. If it hadn’t been for Sirius he would have skipped supper most nights. There were two more bouts of dizziness and one afternoon when his hand shook enough to make it hard to hold onto his wand. He faithfully reported the facts to the healers.

The day of the full moon dawned gray, with clouds in the sky and a rainstorm threatening. It was almost eleven when he got out of bed, taking his tea out in the garden despite the cool weather. The moon always had the odd effect of making him both exhausted and agitated, and that was true this month as well. He was more tired but far from being peaceful, and though he would never admit it to Sirius he did have to wonder if the lethargy was a side effect or part of the purpose of the potion.

In the afternoon he worked on pulling weeds around the exterior of the cottage, something he could do without much focus or thought.

“We’re having mashed tatos for dinner, Remus. Do you like mashed totaos?” Harry was making a grand pile of all the weeds they had pulled. Sirius had promised that they would set them on fire when they were done, a bonfire that would delight the boy.

“I do, Harry, but I’m not going to be able to come to dinner tonight.”

“Cause you’ll be sleeping?”

“Not tonight, Harry. I have to go do a special test with the healers. I’ll sleep there and come back in the morning. I’ll see you at breakfast,” he promised, even though he knew that dragging himself to breakfast the morning after a full moon would be exhausting. 

“I don’t like your healers. They make you tired all the time and Padfoot is sad ‘cause you’re not here.” Harry scowled, and for a moment looked so much like Sirius that Remus almost had to laugh. He sat down and picked up Harry, holding him in his lap.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to do as much with you this week, Harry. I miss our walks in the morning. It’s not the healer’s fault that I’m tired, though. I’ve been sick for a very long time, since I was almost as young as you, and the healers are trying to help me.” Sick was, of course, not the right word at all for what he was, but it was something Harry could understand. He was too young to hear about werewolves and full moons.

“They’ll make you all better?” Harry played with one of the buttons on his cardigan. Despite being in the sun he was still cold.

“I’m afraid that not even the healers at St. Mungo’s can do that, but they can help.” His parents had spent years looking for an elusive cure. He’d given up the idea years ago. “And when I get back you and I and Padfoot can plan that camping trip.”

“Can we have a tent and everything?” One of the delights of being four years old was that things were so easily fixed. The mention of camping had Harry smiling again.

“A tent and a campfire and everything,” he promised. Sirius had already ordered the tent, a ridiculously large thing that fit in a rucksack but turned into a space larger than any flat Remus had rented. Harry gave him a hug before running off to find more weeds for the bonfire. Remus found himself in a shadow and looked up to find Sirius standing over him. 

“For the record I don’t like your healers either.” He offered Remus a hand up. “I hate that you’re going there tonight. I still say you bring along your pet dog.”

“I’ll be fine, Pads. If this potion works I should be able to curl up and sleep all night long. And they wouldn’t let me bring you with me even as a dog. Besides, Harry needs you here and he needs you to tell him that everything’s alright.” Sirius knew that he was going to St Mungo’s, but even if he could get away with bringing him somehow he wouldn’t. His best friend had never seen the basement at St Mungo’s. He didn’t know about the containment cells or the signs that lined the walls warning about dark creatures. If Sirius saw the place he was spending the night in tonight he would not react well. “It’s just one last night and then we can forget all about this until next month.”

For safety’s sake he had his potion an hour before moonrise that night, and was led to a cell that was made up of bars and magic spells that made his skin itch. When he was left alone, standing without his clothes in a cell that had no place to sit he was especially glad that Sirius was not with him. A few cells away the youngest was crying and someone was hitting the bars of their cell. He folded his arms in front of himself in an effort to retain a little warmth and waited for the moon to rise.

II

It took a supreme amount of effort to focus on Harry after Remus left, making sure his godson didn’t see his ‘sad’ face. Until he’d heard Harry talking to Remus he hadn’t realized quite how perceptive the lad was when it came to the adults around him. At bedtime he comforted them both by telling Harry a story about Hogwarts and a prank that he and Remus had pulled once on Dumbledore. It had taken the headmaster almost a day to figure out how to get back into his office.

After Harry was tucked into bed things were both easier and harder. He no longer had any distraction to keep him from obsessing on how Moony was doing at St. Mungo’s but he could also glower and pace without concern that he was upsetting Harry. And he paced enough that he might have worn a track in the carpet if Effie hadn’t redirected him, suggesting that he might feel better if he used his energy more constructively. Her suggestion was a walk, but Sirius only made it as far as the cottage before he stopped. They had done a great deal of work on the front room but very little on the bedroom. There were enough candles lying around to light the space, and he spent hours first cleaning the space and then starting on the painting. Remus always said that his favorite home was Hogwarts, so he painted the walls a deep gold. With scarlet paint he started working a pattern of protection sigils around the doors and windows.

It was after two when he decided that he needed to get sleep if he was going to be good for anything the next day, and he needed to watch over both Harry and Remus. Rather than heading for his room he settled on the sofa in the library. Remus would use the floo when he came home, and he would know the moment his friend arrived.

It was just after six when Sirius was startled awake and found Remus just in front of the fireplace, hunched over. “Moony?”

“What are you doing down here?” Remus straightened slowly and cautiously, taking two slow steps. It was then that Sirius realized that he was carrying his shoes. His feet were bare.

“What do you think I’m doing down here?” Sirius helped him to the sofa, bundling him up in blankets. He was freezing. “Do you want some tea?”

“Merlin no. I think I’d vomit if I ate or drank anything.” Remus pulled the blankets tighter around himself but he was still shaking.

“Budge over.” Sirius expanded the sofa a little so they could sit side by side with their legs stretched out and tugged the blankets free so that Remus could leech some of his body heat. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know if I have the words for it yet. I’ve never been so aware of myself on a full moon. I could keep myself from biting, might even be able to keep myself from attacking, but I…” Remus slipped into silence, either unaware that he hadn’t completed the thought or unwilling to do so.

“Moony?” he prodded gently. 

“It’s always been something separate, you know? When the wolf comes I’m just gone, and I wake up after and have to piece together what happened. It’s like that muggle book we read about Jekyll and Hyde. He knows what he becomes but he can’t control it.”

“I hated that book.” Sirius shuddered when he thought of the way it had ended. The comparison to being a werewolf had been obvious even without Remus pointing it out, and the suicide at the end had haunted him for months after reading it. It hadn’t been that long after The Incident and he’d been all too aware of how Remus felt about his other side. “It was different this time?”

“I knew what was happening the whole time. I could control it, but I also understood that I _was_ it. The line between man and monster doesn’t exist.”

“You’re not a monster.” He hated the word. Hated it so much that he’d burned the first book he’d read that called werewolves not just dark creatures but monsters. His father hadn’t missed the book. “Remus, you…”

“I need the loo.” Remus climbed over him and half ran, half stumbled down the hall, making it to the toilet just in time before retching. He must not have eaten overnight because it seemed more of a reflex than anything. Sirius wet a cloth and wiped the back of his neck while Remus leaned over the toilet, losing the little that he had in his stomach. When he seemed to be done he wiped down his face as well.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” This time when he shook it seemed to be more exhaustion than cold. 

“I promised Harry I would see him for breakfast. You can’t let me oversleep.” Remus collapsed in the bed before Sirius could pull back the blankets.

“You can get a couple of hours of sleep first.” Secretly Sirius doubted that breakfast was realistic. Even on a normal month Remus slept for hours after the moon, and this month had been particularly bad.

“You’ll wake me up?” He maneuvered Remus under the blankets and considered joining him, but decided not to unless he was invited. 

“I promise.” He stayed even after it was clear that Remus was sleeping. He’d seen enough to know that there were no new marks on him. That was good, of course, but the rest of it worried him more than cuts or bites or scars. Unlike Remus he remembered every time he turned into a dog. It was a different feeling, but not an unwelcome one. Padfoot was a part of him. And Padfoot loved the wolf. If he could take the wolf out of Moony he would in a minute, he wasn’t as naive as Remus thought he was about it. He knew what a wolf could do. And he knew that the wolf wasn’t Remus, no matter what Moony said. But it wasn’t a monster either, though he’d probably never be able to convince Remus of that.

“I wish Prongs was here.” James was the only person who might understand how to help Remus and convince him that he wasn’t a monster. The one other person that knew the wolf just as well as Sirius and cared about Remus as much. He and James had met the wolf more than a decade ago. In some ways Remus had only met him tonight, and Sirius didn’t know what to do about it.

Reluctantly Sirius headed for his own bed. If he was going to keep his promise to wake up Remis in a couple of hours he would need some more sleep as well. Before he left, though, he kissed Remus on the forehead, a compulsion he didn’t understand but couldn’t deny.

He slept two and a half hours and woke up to find that Harry was not in his room. There was a small closet in the corner of the room, formed by the stairs up to the attic. Harry loved it, using it as a sort of playroom. Sometimes it was a tent and he dragged pillows in there. Sometimes it was a dungeon and Sirius was sent there without any pillows. It was a magic cave, a Diagon Alley shop, and any number of places mentioned in the letters Remus wrote. It was empty.

“Harry down here?” Monty and Effie were both in the kitchen. Breakfast looked to be imminent; he would have to wake up Remus soon.

“He was, but he went upstairs a little while ago. Said he needed to make sure his Remus was home.” Effie emphasized ‘his’ and Sirius could almost hear Harry’s voice. The lad was fierce about the people who belonged to him. It delighted him that he was the only one rhat called Sirius Padfoot, though he had agreed with equanimity that Remus could use the name too. “He was worried.

“He wasn’t the only one.” Sirius leaned against the counter, wrapping his arms around himself. “I don’t know if it’s worse now because I haven’t seen it for a couple of years or if it’s actually worse, but I hate this. The potion and all of it, but especially knowing he’s been doing it alone for so long. I could have been there but I wasn’t.”

“It’s never easy to see the people we love hurting.” Effie looked over at Monty who was working on one of the puzzles on the back page of the Daily Prophet. He was so much better than he had been a few months ago, but those days at his bedside were still fresh in their minds. “We can’t go backwards and change things, no matter how much we wish we could. We can only learn from what has happened and hopefully do things better.”

“I won’t let him be alone again.’ It was his biggest regret, other than not seeing what Peter had become. After the first six months he should have gone after Remus, told him nothing was worth being gone so long, and dragged him back. “Not for the moons and not for the rest of the time.”

Breakfast was ready, so he left behind the serious conversation and headed up the stairs. The door to Remus’ bedroom was open and he found Harry curled up in an armchair with one of his books.

“Morning sprog.”

“Remus is still sleeping.” Harry’s hair was sticking up more than usual. He needed a haircut but it seemed like that only lasted a week or so before it grew out again. Apparently James had been the same, according to Effie. He didn’t know if he’d done anything similar at the same age; accidental magic wasn’t something pureblood families discussed.

“We can fix that.” He scooped up his godson, leaving the book on the chair. Any other time of the month he might have dropped Harry on the bed without reservation, something he’d done often enough when he was in school, but even without visible wounds Remus’ joints would be aching today. His body-altering itself twice in a matter of hours took a toll. That didn’t mean they couldn’t have some fun.

“Alright, kid. It’s a little known fact that Moony has very ticklish feet. It’s a very effective way of making sure he wakes up.” Sirius tugged back the blankets at the foot of the bed and set Harry down. “Ready?”

“Do it and I’ll hex you.” Sirius was well enough versed in Remus’ smothered-by-a-pillow voice to make out most of what he said and guess at the rest.

“You made me promise that you would be awake for breakfast,” Sirius said with a shrug. “Besides it’s not me, it’s Harry.”

“You’re a terrible influence.” Harry watched them both until Remus sighed in acceptance and Sirius winked. He was delighted to tickle the soft undersides of Remus’ feet, and Sirius was delighted to watch them both. 

“Come on, boys, it’s time to eat.” Harry, job accomplished, was quick to race ahead. Sirius could hear the patter of small feet on the stairs. Remus moved slower. “Alright this morning, Moony?”

“The room’s not spinning.” Remus stood and balanced for a moment. “Not sure I’m up for food but I can manage some tea I think.”

“You don’t look as shitty as you did a few hours ago.” Sirius assessed him carefully. He was standing on his own, which was good, and looked less inclined to vomit. There were still dark circles under his eyes and he was certain there was a long nap in the pretty immediate future but that was generally expected. His biggest concern wasn’t physical and was harder to assess.

“You say the nicest things.” Remus headed for the door, but Sirius stopped him.

“Slippers, Moony. You’re not catching cold on my watch.” He’d come home barefoot and never had ended up with anything on his feet. 

“That’s not actually how colds work and you sound more like my mum than I’m comfortable with.” But Remus complied and they headed to breakfast, Remus in slippers and Sirius in thick socks. 

“Nani made you special breakfastt, Remus.” Harry had situated his seat so he was between Remus and Sirius. For Remus there was a bowl of rava kheer and a smaller bowl of fruit. Remus could smell the cinnamon and cardamom. Plump raisins floated on top. 

“Thank you but I’m not very hungry.” He looked happy to find a cup of tea at his place and wrapped his hands around it.

“Don’t bother fighting it, my boy. Take it from me, once they decide you need to eat you’re going to eat.” Monty folded up the paper and set his quill on top. “They’re relentless, the pair of them.”

“It’s good for you and gentle on the stomach.” Effie patted his head as she walked past him. “Eat.”

“Yeah Moony, eat.” Sirius mimicked the head pat, because it amused him. He dropped his voice a little and spoke more seriously. “At least a few bites, yeah?”

“Yeah Moony, you hafta eat,” Harry repeated, making them all laugh. Between them all they teased and cajoled him until he ate most of his pudding and a little of the fruit. Sirius considered it a victory. He went straight back to bed, but at least it was with a full stomach. 


	20. The Ruling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Azkaban?” he asked softly. It was a mild day for October but he felt a chill in his bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely delight in the kind comments from all of you! Thank you for coming on this journey with me!

The ruling of the wizengamot came four days after the full moons and two and a half weeks before The Anniversary. Remus had been expecting it for days now, and yet was unprepared to open the door and find Kingsley Shacklebolt standing on the front steps.

“Would you like to come in? I can fetch Sirius.” He didn’t know Shacklebolt well, though they had both fought in the first war in their own ways. The other man had been an Auror even then, new at the job and finding a balance between his official duties and occasionally working for Dumbledore. Remus had stayed as far from the Ministry as he could. In more than one battle the Aurors and the Order had worked together, and he remembered clearly a time when he and Shaklebolt had found themselves the only two in an alley facing Dolotov and a handful of others. Thankfully the Auror’s job was well earned, his defensive spells strong and his attacks sharp and unrelenting. The only death in that battle had been a Death Eater.

“I have somewhere else to be shortly and can’t linger. Moody asked me to deliver the news. There’s been a ruling on the Pettigrew case.” He was tall, perhaps only an inch or two above Remus' own six foot three, but much broader and more imposing. A few years ahead of them in school, he’d been a beater for the Hufflepuff team and if things had been different could have had a brilliant career as a professional.

“Azkaban?” he asked softly. It was a mild day for October but he felt a chill in his bones.

Kingsley nodded. “He finally confessed under the use of veritaserum. In addition to…”

“No.” Remus held up his hand and shook his head. “I don’t want to know all the details. I know enough about what he did. Knowing more isn’t going to make it any easier.”

“The details are on file at the aurors’ office. I’m sure if you change your mind Moody can grant you access.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” Knowing that Peter had betrayed them was an ache that he’d been living with for years now. Knowing that he would be in Azkaban, that anything that remained of the boy that had once been his friend would be gone soon, was a more complicated ache.

“There’s a lot of people that are going to sleep easier, knowing that the last of the Death Eaters are locked up, and that’s owing to you. You could be an auror. Your work both in the war and tracking down Pettigrew are commendable, and the department is always looking for talent.” Shaklebolt’s expression was impossible to read. Remus had no idea if it was an actual offer, or just how much the man knew about who he was talking to. Certainly no one at the Ministry would seriously consider him; Moody at the least knew what he was. 

“Thank you, but it’s not for me. And thank you for the news.” He held out his hand and swore when they shook that Shaklebolt’s hand was time and a half the size of his own. But he didn’t hesitate to shake, so either he didn’t know what Remus was or honestly didn’t care. 

“He’ll be transported tonight, and then it will all be over.” The auror took a step back, nodded, and after a moment apparated away.

“It will never be completely over.” Remus looked over his shoulder in the direction of the back of the house where Sirius and Harry were taking advantage of the nice weather to play in the garden. Peter being sent to Azkaban didn’t do anything to bring back Harry’s parents. They wouldn’t make it easier to trust anyone, or to answer questions when Harry got older. And he knew that Shacklebolt was as aware as he was that not all Death Eaters were locked up in Azkaban.

He was supposed to be joining Harry and Sirius in the garden, but he was reluctant to put a damper on their playing. Still, if he didn’t go out to find them they would be the ones seeking him out. He gave himself a minute and took a breath.

They were playing blind man’s bluff. Sirius had an old scarlet and gold school tie knotted around his head covering his eyes and was wandering the garden with his arms stretched out before him. Harry was moving in circles around him, running off and coming closer again. They were both laughing and Remus wished he could freeze the moment for a little while. What he wanted most in the world, other than things that were impossible like James to be back, Peter’s betrayal to be a lie, and a cure to lycanthropy, were for these two people to be happy. Every day he got to watch them laugh was a good one.

“Got you.” He stayed in one place for too long, and suddenly Sirius’ hands were on him, catching him at the waist first and then working their way up. “You’re not Harry.”

“Your observational skills are well developed.” Sirius didn’t stop, even though he hadn’t bothered to try and disguise his voice. Harry was giggling as Sirius patted him down, hands on his chest working higher until he was poking at Remus’ face. He changed to fingertips then, moving more slowly.

“Only one nose, that’s a good thing. The eyebrows aren’t too furry so you can’t be any of my cousins.” One finger grazed the scar across his cheek, moving with a precision that made Remus suspect that the tie was not covering Sirius’ eyes completely. 

“Fortunately I’ve never been confused with your relatives.” Other than Andromeda, who he’d met a handful of times, and Sirius himself he had no interest in meeting anyone in the Black family. His run-ins with Sirius’ brother had been enough.

“You don’t scowl enough to be a Black.” Sirius’ fingers moved lower, tracing Remus’ mouth. “You frown too much to be a Potter, though.”

“It’s Remus.” Harry danced in a circle, tugging at his godfather’s shirt. Sirius took off his tie.

“So it is.” He didn’t move his hand immediately, finger still resting against Remus’ mouth. “You’re still frowning, Moony.”

“We can talk about it later. You and Harry are playing.” He took a half step back, just enough to dislodge Sirius’ hand. He couldn’t think when he was being touched like that. Or he could, but only of things that were wildly inappropriate. He’d already spent far too much time obsessing over one badly done and one sided kiss without adding other thoughts as well.

“Harry can you go see if Nani will give you a chocolate biscuit? Tell her you won the game, alright?” He hung the tie around Harry’s neck; it almost touched the ground. “You can take care of that for me too, alright?”

“I won, I won, I won.” Harry, excited for his ‘victory,’ ran for the house. Sirius barely watched to make sure he was inside before returning his focus to Remus. 

“This isn’t a normal Remus frown, this is something specific bothering you.”

“I don’t have a normal Remus frown,” he protested, for a moment allowing himself to be distracted.

“You’re right, you have about seventeen of them. There’s the ‘Sirius you are annoying me’ frown and the ‘I have a headache’ frown and the ‘why can’t you understand that it’s vital to be silent in the library frown.’” Sirius held up his hand and ticked off each frown as he spoke. Remus stopped him after seven.

“Kingsley Shacklebolt was here.” He looked around the garden as if the man might appear again at the sound of his name. 

“Peter.” Sirius’ own teasing smile faded. 

“Yeah. He’d been officially found guilty and will leave for Azkaban tonight.” 

“Did he ever…” Sirius shook his head. “No, I don’t care. He’s going to be gone, and that’s all that matters. He can't get to Harry and you have no reason to go after him again. You can stay here, both of you, safely.

“I didn’t ask any questions. I don’t want to know more.” Remus looked down, biting his lip. “It was funny, before he left he mentioned that the auror’s office was always hiring and that I was a good candidate.”

“You’d be brilliant at parts of it and crap at others. You’re not going to consider it, are you?” Sirius looked worried.

“I can’t imagine anything I’d be less interested in pursuing. I’ve had enough of tracking and I’m certainly not going after dark creatures.” It had been like a boogeyman when he was little, and again when he lived in a pack, the threat of aurors and Azkaban if anything went wrong on a full moon. Greyback had been on the most wanted list for the British Aurors for two decades but was sufficiently protected by those that found having a vicious werewolf at their beck and call handy. “I only went after Peter because of who he was, and because…”

“Because I made you question if you had a place here.” 

“It wasn’t you.” But no, that wasn’t true and Sirius deserved his honesty. “It wasn’t all you, and it wasn’t undeserved. You had reasons not to trust me, and I had reasons why it was easier to pull away than to stay. I’m not even sure it would have been a good idea to stay, at the beginning. You had Harry and you needed to focus on taking care of him, not compounding your own grief with mine.”

“We could have grieved together.” He made it sound so simple, as if two dark holes canceled each other out. But Remus thought of his own guilt and shame and grief, and Sirius’ inevitable anger and wondered if it would have meant healing or some catastrophic explosion. James had been, from the start, the anchor and centerpoint of their group. “I’ve regretted that last year before everything ended so much.”

“Me too.” He could both regret it and see how nothing could have been different. He still had to follow the path Dumbledore had laid out for him. They still wouldn’t have known what Peter was. There still would have been misunderstandings and secrets and fights.

“I told myself that hearing the sentencing wouldn’t change anything. We knew what was coming. But it feels strange.” Perhaps unconsciously Sirius looked to the North, where the small island was unplottable in the middle of the North Sea. No one escaped Azkaban, and once Peter was there there was no reason to think they would see him again. “He’ll be there with the rest of the Death Eaters.”

“The whole time I was looking for Peter I think a piece of me kept hoping that there was a way it wasn’t what it looked like. That he didn’t betray us and there was another explanation.” Remus closed his eyes and remembered that dirty little alley and Peter, his eyes dull and his voice without remorse. The knowledge that Peter’s betrayal had started while they were still at Hogwarts was like acid in his veins. He hadn’t seen it. “I don’t think I’ll ever be okay with dementors being the guards at Azkaban, but Peter knew what he was doing. He knew the cost.”

“Yeah, he did. And he’s getting off easy. If he hadn’t escaped right after I found him...” There was anger in Sirius’ voice and Remus pressed a hand to the side of his neck, shaking his head.

“The whole truth might never have come out if that had happened. They would have said it was murder and you might be the one in Azkaban right now. I don’t know how I would have handled that.” 

“It didn’t happen, Moony. It’s alright. I’m here and so are you, and it’s just the two of us Marauders left.” Sirius pressed their foreheads together. “Just us.”

“Just us,” Remus repeated. He was reminded of a vow they had made when they were children and about to go home for the first summer apart. Marauders, all for one and one for all. They’d stolen that bit from Alexander Dumas, after Remus had read Three Musketeers to himself first and then bits aloud to his roommates, but it had fit. Where once there were four, there were now only two. But the other one was Sirius and for Remus that was more than he’d ever expected to have.

II

As the thirty-first of October approached the adults in the house became noticeably more somber. Harry, on the other hand, became more excited.

“We have a feast,” Sirius explained when Remus looked confused after Harry asked for the third day straight if it was almost time for The Anniversary. “Someday we’ll take him to the grave, but he’s too young to understand. Effie and Monty go to their grave together in the morning. The first year we didn’t do much, because it was too painful, but last year we decided that we needed to do something and it was Effie’s idea to have a feast. She spent days cooking all of James and Lily’s favorite foods. We ate and told stories, and set a place for each of them.”

Sirius spoke quickly, not sure how much he could get out before choking up. He stopped when a tear started falling down Remus’ cheek. 

“That’s really beautiful, Pads.” Remus didn’t bother to wipe the tear away. Sirius did, feeling the warmth against his thumb. “They would approve. James would hate it if we moped around every year, and Lily would probably come kick us in the butt if that was her legacy.”

“The first year I waited until everyone else had gone to bed and got completely wasted. I wasn’t good for anything the next day.” He could still remember the Daily Prophet that had been delivered that morning, celebrating a year of peace. There had been recaps of battles and a list of the dead, as well as an article about the Death Eaters that were in Azkaban. Thankfully there was no picture of Lily and James or Harry, but there was an article about ‘The Boy Who Lived’ and the final victims of the war. Sirius had burned the thing.

“I didn’t have to wait until anyone else was sleeping. I held out until lunch, and don’t remember much else from the day. Most of that week is a blur, honestly.” Remus shrugged and tossed another moldy bit of thatch off the roof. They were hoping to finish the roof in the next couple of days. Remus insisted that rain would be coming soon. “It was a moon the next night. I barely had the presence of mind to get to a safe place.”

“Don’t we make a pair?” Sirius’ hands tightened on the straw that he was holding. At least he’d had Effie and Monty when he woke up the next day, and the ability to focus on Harry. 

“A pair of something, all right,” Remus tried to joke. They spent the next hour mostly in silence except for a few repairing spells.

Three days later they managed to get new thatch on the roof, and along with the new windows and the repair to the chimney, it meant that most of the outdoor work was completed. There was even a small garden planted with some winter veg, because Remus was a practical old soul and couldn’t let a yard be just flowers and things. There was still work to be done inside and a bogart that had to be dealt with at some point, but they had both agreed that they would wait until after The Anniversary before dealing with that. 

The feeling of accomplishment was nice, and it was a cozy space that suited Remus well, but the closer they came to completion the closer they were to Remus moving out. Sirius was not looking forward to that, even when it meant he was only down at the end of the garden. Fortunately he had every intention of pestering Remus with visits constantly, and it wasn’t like he would bother with knocking.

Once the roof was done they took a break from the cottage. Remus was recruited to help Effie in the kitchen, following her directions for the most part but actually able to complete some recipes on his own. Sirius and Harry declared themselves official taste testers and popped down to the kitchen often, but mostly stayed away lest they be drafted into doing actual work. Monty was in charge of the table and had already gathered a gold cloth and scarlet wine goblets. Sirius and Harry had their eye on some flowers that they would gather on the day.

Two days before The Anniversary Sirius received an owl and found himself with an invitation to come to tea the following week with his cousin Andromeda.

“Does that happen often?” Remus leaned over the back of his chair, reading the message at the same time. 

“Every couple of months. ‘Dromeda took it pretty hard, both her sisters being married to Death Eaters and Bellatrix being sentenced to Azkaban. She visited me, not long after I moved in here. Told me that family still meant something even if family was only the two of us. Her parents still won’t talk to her, of course. Cissy is raising the next generation of pureblood snobs and pretending her husband is respectable. And last I heard my mum hasn’t left that moldering old home of ours in this decade. I think she’s walled herself up in there since Reggie disappeared.” He tried not to think about Reggie too often. His brother had borne the Death Eater’s mark the last time they had seen each other, but his fear had been just as visible to someone who knew him so well. To his knowledge Reggie hadn’t been seen by anyone in five years. He was most likely dead. It was easier to not think about his mum, who might as well be dead for all he cared.

“That’s nice. You both deserve to have family. Does she still have just the one kid or did she and Ted have any others in the past few years?”

“Just the one still, and Dora started Hogwarts this year.” He’d never given much thought to what it was like on the parent’s side of things, to send a child to boarding school. His parents had been glad to see him away, and he’d been equally glad to go. But in seven years it would be Harry, and he didn’t know what he would do when he had to go months between seeing his godson.

“Is she that old already? She was only a couple of years older than Harry the last time I saw her.” Remus shook his head. “You’ll have to tell your cousin I said hello. She was always nice to me.”

“You should come. Tell her hello yourself.” He knew that Andromeda wouldn’t mind. She’d liked Remus, teasing that it was good that he had someone stable and responsible in his life. And she was always pushing him to expand his social circle, thinking he spent too much time with only his godson for company and needed more friends his own age. He knew she really meant dating, but knowing he had Remus back would make her happy.

“Your cousin doesn’t need any uninvited company.”

“Nonsense. You’re coming with me. It will do you good to get out of the house for a few hours and Ted always makes far too much food.” No one could resist Ted’s food and he was still on a mission to fatten up Remus, though after two months he didn’t look quite as waif-like. It would also be halfway through his second round of the wolfsbane trials and a distraction would be a good thing. “No arguing, I’ve already decided.”

“You know it doesn’t actually work that way, right?” But Remus didn’t fight him on it and Sirius knew that it meant he’d won. Remus would come with him to his cousin’s for tea. It was something to look forward to, once they made it through Wednesday. Right now the day seemed to loom over them.


	21. The Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning of the thirty-first dawned with grey skies and a threat of rain, which seemed appropriate. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with this chapter, figuring out how to write it in a way that wasn't too maudlin, but respected the idea of loss. I hope it works.
> 
> I have some elements here of a Pagan Dumb Feast, a common practice on Samhain/Halloween of sharing a meal with those that have moved on.

The morning of the thirty-first dawned with grey skies and a threat of rain, which seemed appropriate. Remus woke early but stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was too early for even Harry to be awake, the sun barely lighting up the room. His limbs felt heavy. If he’d been alone he might have considered giving in to the weight and staying in bed, barricading himself in the room for the day. Harry was no better about allowing him to wallow than his father had been, however. He would be pulled out of bed. And there were plans, of course, with piles of food cooked by Effie. Mostly, though, there was Sirius. He’d faced two anniversaries alone and Remus wouldn’t let him face a third without a friend at his side.

Harry was still sleeping when Remus made his way to the boy’s room after he’d showered and dressed. Remus might have left the room if the movement of a photo hadn’t caught his attention. It was a photo, framed and hung on the wall, from the first and only Christmas Lily and James had been parents. The tree was strung up with electric lights, a muggle tradition Lily had insisted on. The ornaments had been a mix of muggle and wizard, some hand made that year and others a century old. In the background a fire danced in the fireplace, once almost catching the toe of a stocking hung from the mantle. Lily had wanted a stocking for everyone and Sirius had found the most ridiculous red striped stocking three feet long.

Lily sat on the floor with Harry on her lap, not yet six months old and too interested in Christmas lights to pay much attention to the gift that she was unwrapping. James was too interested in his kid to pay attention to presents, and had spent the morning taking pictures of everything Harry did. Somewhere there might be another photo, if it had survived, or Harry spitting out pureed peas at his godfather. Remus stared at a younger version of himself in the photo, a ridiculous pair of fake antlers on his head that Sirius had charmed there. He was laughing, a look that was strangely carefree for being in the middle of a war. But then it had always been easier to laugh when Sirius was around, and the younger version of Sirius was carrying a ridiculous pile of presents. Most, he remembered, had been for Harry but a few had been for him. More than he could afford to give in return, which had always been frustrating. 

It was one of the last times they had all been together. Not long into the new years James and Lily had gone into hiding.

“Were we ever really that young?” Sirius startled him, standing just behind him despite the fact that Remus hadn’t heard him come into the room.

“We were children.” Despite the missions and the Order meetings and the dark news, it had felt like children playing house, the first years out of Hogwarts. He looked at Lily’s smile as she tore paper from a gift. She would always be young, like so many of their friends. “Why are you awake? It’s not even seven yet.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Remus could feel the shrug even though he couldn’t see it. “I’ve checked on the sprog three times since midnight. I knew there’s no reason to worry about anything happening to him but…”

“But it’s hard to forget what could have happened to him three years ago.” The scar on his forehead was pale, a thin jagged line that was barely noticeable. Remus stared at it, the only visual sign of a failed killing curse. Harry could have died at the hands of Voldemort. Remus didn’t want to think about what that would have done to Sirius. Losing James had been an almost impossible grief. Losing Harry too would have been perhaps a step too far to ever recover, probably for both of them.

“Sometimes I want to put a protection spell around this house and never let him out of my sight, Moony. I have to keep him safe.”

“You do. Safe and happy. James and Lily would be so pleased, Pads, with how you’re raising him. How you show him the world they would want him to know.” Remus knew well how dangerous the world could be but they couldn’t protect Harry from everything, even if they wanted to try. “It would be safer to never ride a broom, after all, but would you want to miss out on that?”

“You had to go and be logical, didn’t you?” Sirius grumbled. “I don’t know how people manage having more than one kid. Worrying about one is hard enough. Molly Weasley, Gid and Fab’s older sister if you remember her, she’s got almost a dozen of ‘em, or at least six. Maybe seven. I think my head would explode.”

“I’ve heard you threaten that before and yet here it is, stuck on top of your shoulders, supporting your hair even when it’s not doing anything else useful.” More often than not Sirius’ hair was in a plait or bun, but so early in the morning it hung loose and tangled, looking like he’d just stumbled out of bed. He had, of course, but the frustrating thing was he looked like he could easily be talked back into bed and Remus didn’t need to think things like that. Thankfully Harry came to his rescue unknowingly.

“Is it time for all the food?” Harry bounced out of bed, crawling on the floor to find his slippers.

“Just the normal amount of food for breakfast. Nani and grandpa are out this morning so it’s just the three of us.” James’ parents were spending the morning cleaning the gravesite and planting winter plants, Remus knew. He’d offered to go with them but Effie said it was a private time for them.

“Can we play quidditch after breakfast?”

“Anything you want, sprog.” 

“Can I have biscuits for breakfast?” Harry looked up hopefully. Remus had to chuckle; Sirius had rather walked into that one.

“One, but you have to eat things that aren’t sweets as well.”

“What happened to the boy that thought cake was a perfectly acceptable breakfast?” There were also times that Sirius thought that ale was an acceptable breakfast. 

“He didn’t have to run around after a four-year-old with too much sugar in his system.” And considering that without any biscuits yet in his system Harry was running down the stairs it was a very good point.

Breakfast consisted of eggs and sausage as well as the promised biscuit. Remus collected the Daily Profit when it arrived, but didn’t look at the headlines and left it on the window ledge. Neither he nor Sirius needed to see whatever headline they ran for The Anniversary. Afterwards Harry dressed and they headed out to grass that Sirius had dubbed the quidditch pitch.

“I have something for you, Harry.” Remus opened his hand to reveal a snitch, an old one that Minerva had sent him when he’d asked. It was a bit dinged up and the original magic had worn off, but Remus had charmed it to float a few feet above the ground.

“My very own?” When it began to float out of Remus’ hand, the wings barely waving, Harry’s plump little fingers snatched it up. For a moment Remus was lost in a memory of James playing with a snitch, plucking it from the air with ease. On one memorable occasion he and Sirius had sat on opposite sides of their history of magic class and sent it back and forth every time Binn’s back was turned. Half of the class had been in on it by the time class had ended, and even Lily had laughed, though she’s been careful not to let James see.

“Your very own.” Remus swallowed hard before he could speak, looking up to find Sirius watching him. What little ability he had gained to speak was completely robbed when Harry threw his arms around his legs and hugged him.

“Thank you, Moony.” Harry, thankfully, was so enthused about his snitch that he ran off with his broom to play, and Sirius had to follow. It allowed Remus time to pull himself together, breathing slowly as he watched from a distance. For just a moment from the back he could almost see James when Sirius picked up Harry, like an echo of a double exposure.

II

“I’ll take James’ plate.” Dinner had taken most of the evening, the table laden with food and the air thick with stories and emotions. Everyone had taken turns sharing their memories, even Harry though what he ‘remembered’ was second hand. Harry eventually fell asleep with his cheek resting on a piece of naan and his hand clutching a jammy dodger and had been carried up to bed. Effie and Monty had excused themselves a little while ago, supporting each other as they walked down the hall to their bedroom. Both had been cheerful for their grandson’s sake but the moment he was asleep Sirius could see how tired they really were. It was hard to admit that both of them were getting on in years.

“To the garden?” Remus asked softly, following Sirius when he nodded. They walked to the edge of the garden near the forest, leaving both plates on the ground with food piled on them. The wine in the glasses they carried were poured silently into the earth. Sirius was reminded of a blood sacrifice. Remus would probably tell him that the ritual was about returning to the earth that when was given. James had commented once that it was probably to make sure that the animals didn’t get drunk. Sugar was one thing, but wine was quite another. The tradition of feeding those who had been lost at celebrations usually only lasted a year, but they had carried on. It only felt right.

“They’ll eat well tonight.” Remus looked out at the forest, though it was too dark to see anything. Sirius wondered how much he could smell of their animal neighbors. He would have to transform into Padfoot to get anything, but Remus’ senses were usually sharper.

“Just as long as they don’t get used to it.” Not ready to go inside yet, Sirius sat down just out of sight of the laden plates. He didn’t want to see who came to feast on them. 

“It’s a bit chilly out here. You don’t mind a fire, do you?” Remus conjured up flames without a word, holding them in his hand for a moment before setting them on a log.

“Show off.” Remus had always been good at fire related charms for some reason. In fifth year he’d figured out how to freeze a flame so it still kept them warm but didn’t burn anything. It had come in handy when they were hiding in tunnels or the time they had gotten stuck in the joke shop basement overnight. “We should have a bonfire on Monday. I’ve been promising one to Harry.”

“Having a bonfire on the fifth of November always seems a little ironic to me. Shouldn’t we leave that to the muggles?” Remus, his hands reaching out for the warmth of the fire, shook his head. Muggles, of course, didn’t know that Guy Fawkes was a wizard and that his protest had been an attempt to end the Burning Times. Not that many witches actually burned, thanks to freezing charms, but they had lost their homes and livelihoods. Many all wizard villages could be traced back to those years, as a place of refuge.

“It’s an excuse to have a giant fire, Moony.” He’d never cared as much about history, perhaps because it had mattered so much to his parents who could trace the family lineage to the Burning Times and beyond. “Remember in fifth year when we had a bonfire out by the lake and when McGonagall caught is you convinced her that it was a historical recreation and we were working on a project for History of Magic? James almost bust a gut to stop himself from laughing.”

“I don’t think she believed me. It was more a case of recognizing the impossibility of the situation. We had half the school out there by that point.”

“It was brilliant, wasn’t it?” If he closed his eyes he could still see James, adding more wood to the fire, dancing with Dorcas, and drinking butterbeer. The night hadn’t ended until they’d set off fireworks and made up a game of tossing treats at the giant squid. They’d all been so alive and relaxed, free of all but the barest rumors of a war to come. He didn’t want to think about how many of those people were gone now. “We could do a bonfire on the fourth if that would be less weird.”

“Probably better since we’re going to your cousin’s on Monday. If you burn down my cottage or the forest I am telling Andronmeda, though.” Remus rubbed his knee, pausing for a moment before speaking again. “It’s probably not raining for a few days at least.”

“Handier than the weather report, you are.” Sirius frowned though, knowing that Remus only knew about the weather when his joints ached. “We could have a practice bonfire tonight if you’re still cold.”

“I’m alright,” Remus said with a shrug, which could mean he really was alright or could be that he was being his usual self. “I suppose we should leave soon, anyway, if we’re going to the cemetery tonight.”

“I suppose.” He thought of the double headstone, the two names, the birth dates two months apart, and the matching death dates. His stomach dropped.

“We don’t have to.” Remus’ hand was in his, the place where their hands touched warmer than the rest of his body.

“We should.” It was what people did, after all.

“We should do what’s right for us. The last person who would have wanted you to go there if it upsets you was James. It doesn’t mean you care any less.” Remus started to pull away but Sirius wouldn’t let him, gripping his fingers. “Honestly I’ve been dreading it. I haven’t seen it yet.”

“Maybe we could go on a different day.” A day when it didn’t feel so heavy and the thought didn’t make him want to toss up everything he’d eaten during their feast. Maybe with Remus at his side he could manage to go without getting drunk first.

“It took me a while before I could manage my mum’s grave too. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“I’d like to visit my mum’s grave. Sadly she hasn’t obliged me yet, so I’ll have to wait for her to die before I can test out the theory that I can make her roll over in the grave.” His very existence, he’d been told often enough, was enough to shock the entire Black Family line. It was unfair that people like James were dead while Walburga Black still moldered away in the old family home.

“She’s a miserable lonely old woman who never deserved you.” Remus looked at the fire which was starting to burn down. “We should head inside soon. It’s getting cold.”

“Just a few more minutes.” Sirius stared at the coals, burning almost the same dark red of their school house. The warmth was still enough to keep the chill away, and Remus’ weight leaning against him was comforting. For a moment he could imagine they were boys again, waiting for James to get more wood for the fire. James was gone, though, and never coming back.  



	22. The Little House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow they've forgotten to explain to Harry about the cottage being for Remus. Things don't go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't planned for this bit to happen originally but somehow it just did, and I'm glad. Although Remus and Sirius' relationship as it changes is my number one focus I love writing parent Sirius and Remus figuring out both how to relate to harry and how he matters to others.

The morning after The Anniversary Harry was delighted to find that the plates they had left out for the animals were empty.

“They had a party just like us.” He skipped back to the house with the empty plates, Remus just behind him with a cushioning charm ready just in case they landed on the ground in Harry’s enthusiasm.

“Probably makes a nice change from leaves and raw rabbit.” It was meant as a joke, and Harry laughed but Remus found himself frowning at his own comment. He’d woken with enough blood on his lips and metallic tastes in his mouth to know that catching the rare animal, no pun intended, had been an occasional part of his night time adventures. It was never the most pleasant of thoughts, but on days when he had chased animals he was less likely to have new scars. It was the thought of the moon itself that made him frown. It was the first of his nine nights returning to St. Mungo’s for the potion. At the end of the nine nights he would once again keep his own mind as the wolf. The thought made him feel uncomfortable.

“Uncle Remus?”

“Sorry, Harry, did you say something?”   


“You’ve been washing that dish for a very long time. Can we go for a walk now?”

“Of course.” The dishes, while he had been lost in thought, had gotten clean enough so he could set them aside. Not knowing if he would suffer the same exhaustion this month, he wanted to make sure he took his mornings with Harry while he could. “Where should we go today?”

“The little house.” Harry ran for the door and out into the garden. He stopped before the gate, even though it had been repaired and opened easily. Just before Remus caught up he opened it and raced ahead again. Remus found him in the bedroom of the cottage. The room was painted, thanks to Sirius, making it a warm and cheerful space. He would be ready to start moving his things over soon.  


“I’m gonna ask Sirius to put a bed right here for me.” Harry was sprawled on the floor near the window in almost the same place Remus intended to put his bed. He liked the idea of waking up and being able to look out at the forest,

“I’m afraid the room’s not big enough for two beds, but you can borrow mine sometimes.” There was just enough room that he should be able to fit in a chair in addition to a few bookcases. Some of his books were going to have to go in the other room.

“How come’d you get a bed and I don’t? Nani said it’s important to share.” Harry sat up, frowning at him in a way that Remus wasn’t used to seeing.

“This is going to be my house, Harry. That’s why we’ve been cleaning it up.” It occurred to him then that he’d never actually explained to Harry directly what was happening. He and Sirius had talked, and they had been casually mentioning the cottage for weeks, but he hadn’t explained to Harry and apparently neither had Sirius.

“You have a house. You and me and Padfoot and Nani and Grandpa. There.” He pointed in the general direction of the house, though he was turned around a bit and was actually pointing towards the lane that led to town. “The little house is for playing.”

“I’ve been visiting, Harry, and it’s been lovely but I need my own home. I won’t be very far away. You run so fast you can be here in just a couple of minutes.” Remus knelt down, hoping to comfort Harry, but he’d barely gotten to his knees when Harry stood and ran for the doorway.

“I’m never coming here ever again. It’s stupid.” And then he was gone, slamming the door behind him with a force that seemed too much for a four-year-old. Remus had to wonder if it was accidental magic that had slammed the door, and just how upset Harry really was.

It took Remus a minute to stand and race to catch up, but by the time he reached the house Harry was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t in the kitchen, the library, or his own bedroom. It was early enough that Sirius’ door was still closed, and maybe that meant Harry wasn’t in there, but he didn’t know where else to look and if Harry wasn’t inside he needed help.

“Pads?” No one else was in the room, Sirius still bundled under a pile of blankets. He always did like to burrow and was a horrible blanket thief. Fortunately he gave back in body heat what he stole in blankets and wasn’t a bad bedmate. At least he didn't kick.  


“Pumpkins need new shoes.” Or at least that was Remus’ best guess for the incoherent mumblings that came out from under the blankets.

“Sirius, I need you to wake up.” He took off the top blanket, folding it neatly before putting it at the end of the bed, repeating the same with the next two blankets. He left one, not having any idea what Sirius might be wearing - or not wearing - to bed. He was stressed enough about Harry on top of worrying about the next moon without adding any gay crisis on top of it all.

“Finished the essay, don’t need to wake up early.” Sirius tried to pull the blanket over his head. Remus pulled at it, tugging it down enough to learn that whatever Sirius might be wearing didn’t include a shirt.

“That’s good since any essay you had was due more than six years ago.” Remus poked at one bare shoulder. “I need you to help me find Harry. He’s mad at me and I think he’s hiding somewhere.”

“Impossible.”

Remus sighed. “I really need you to wake up, Sirius.”

“‘M awake. Can’t imagine Harry’s actually mad at you. Maybe he’s playing a game?” Sirius arched his back, stretching for a minute before opening his eyes. 

“He didn’t realize that I was moving into the cottage. I explained it to him, but he’s upset.” He could kick himself for not making sure that Harry understood weeks ago.

Sirius sat up, the blanket falling enough to reveal a pair of tattoos, one which he hadn’t seen in years, the other which he’d never seen. But he needed to focus on what was important in the moment. “We’ve been talking about it for weeks. I thought he understood.”

“He thought it was some sort of playhouse. Maybe we should…”

“If you’re going to suggest you stay in the house so Harry can have a playhouse that’s lovely and I vote yes. If you’re going to say something ridiculous about renting a flat so Harry can have another place to play you’re an idiot.” Sirius, thankfully, was wearing black pyjama pants when he got out of bed and padded across the room to put on a jersey. 

“I wasn’t going to suggest that,” Remus lied. “I was wondering if we should split up or look together.”

“Together. There’s not that many places for him to hide and we can probably explain things to him better if it’s the two of us.” They started in Harry’s bedroom again because Remus hadn’t checked the closet. He wasn’t there, but Sirius was the one to notice the piece of parchment on the floor. It didn’t seem significant until he turned it over. It was the map, down from the wall, the corners torn. For a moment Remus couldn’t breathe. It was a rare day when Harry didn’t drag him to the map and ask him to answer a question or tell a story.

“He’s four and he’s upset. It could have been accidental magic.” Sirius rested a hand on his shoulder, looking at him thoughtfully. Worried about him, clearly. Remus sighed.

“Harry’s the one we should be focusing on right now.” 

“I can actually manage to do more than one thing at a time, especially when it comes to worrying about the two people that matter to me the most.” Sirius squeezed his shoulder before setting down the map carefully on the window seat. Remus was left staring at him, not quite sure how to respond. He was spared saying anything when Sirius crouched down at the side of the bed. “Hiya, sprog.”

Remus sighed in relief, glad that they at least knew where Harry was and he could stop worrying that he was in the forest lost, or trapped in some dangerous space, or making some reckless plan of running away. He’d run away once, when he was seven and had decided that it was better for everyone if his parents didn’t have to worry about him. He was lucky that the muggles that picked him up were idyllic young hippies who convinced him to go home and not people with more nefarious purposes.

“Remus woke me up because he’s worried about you.” Remus could only make out half of what Sirius was saying. If Harry was speaking it was quietly enough that he couldn’t hear it at all. For just a moment Remus wondered if he should speak, but he didn’t want to make Harry any more upset. Sirius would tell him if he was needed.

“When Moony told me he was moving I was sad but I didn’t want to be sad so I yelled instead. But yelling didn’t make me feel very good and it didn’t make Moony feel good either. I thought about how sad I was when Moony was far away, and then how even though he was moving it would only be a little walk and it made me feel better.” Sirius’ voice was low but Remus could make out most of what he was saying. He was speaking to Harry, of course, in terms meant to be easy for him to understand, but it was Remus that felt each word as if it was a well-aimed arrow. Sirius didn't usually speak so simply and directly about how he felt. Remus felt as if he was eavesdropping and wondered if it was better to quietly leave. Sirius seemed to have a sense of what he was doing and turned to pin him with a gaze that said ‘don’t even think about it.’

“Remus is here and I’m sure he’d like it if you came out from under your bed Harry. Think you could do that?” Sirius waited patiently for a response that must have been positive because he sat up and sat patiently. It took a minute or more before Harry wiggled his way from under the bed and climbed onto Sirius’ lap, half turned to have his face buried in his godfather’s chest. Sirius looked up at him. “Have a seat, Moons, so we don’t have to strain our necks looking at you?”

“If it’s alright with Harry.” Remus stayed where he was, looking down at his best friend and the small child he held so easily. He was a natural, no matter what he doubted. It was a gentle compassion that people who only knew Sirius Black casually might find surprising, but that Remus had always known from the first time Sirius had snuck him a chocolate bar after a bad moon. 

Harry didn’t speak but his nod was enough for Remus, who folded his legs to sit down on the floor half a meter away. “I’m sorry, Harry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You know that, don’t you Harry?” Sirius spoke softly. After a moment Harry nodded, moving Sirius’ jersey up and down. Sirius held him close with a hand to his back. “I’m sorry too. I should have talked to you better about Moony moving to the cottage.”

“I don’t want Uncle Remus to go away.” Harry still clung to Sirius, his voice muffled, but it was impossible not to hear the emotion behind it. From the sound Harry must have been crying when he was under the bed. It was the last thing Remus wanted. Harry was usually a pretty happy lad, much like his father. James and Peter had been the more cheerful of their group, growing up. Sirius had his moods and Remus was not without his blue spells, but they had balanced each other out.

“He’s not going away, Harry, he’s just moving his bedroom a little bit. Remember how I told you about the numbers on the map? How the bigger ones meant that he was far away and the smaller ones meant he was closer? The cottage isn’t even a one. It’s Nani and Grandpa’s cottage. I bet an owl could glide all the way from the big house to the little house without flapping its wings. It would take you longer to walk from one end of a real quidditch pitch to the other than it would to get to the cottage.” 

“We’ll still take our walks in the morning, and play games and tell stories,” Remus promised. His resolve to have his own space hadn’t changed but he was only just realizing just how much it would affect Harry. Perhaps he didn’t even fully realize how it would affect Sirius.

“I like stories.” Harry pulled away from his godfather enough to turn his head, letting Remus see one tear-stained cheek but also the beginnings of a smile.

“I like telling stories. And I like spending time with you, Harry. I don’t want that to stop no matter where I live.” Harry had been so small when he had left. He’d held the babe the day he was born. There had been a few precious months before James and Lily had gone into hiding, of lullabies and cuddles, stolen moments with the Potter family when he knew that Sirius wasn’t going to be around. Things had been bad between them by the time Harry was born. He was spending a great deal of time with the pack and actually missed Harry’s birth by twenty minutes. He’d loved Harry for being James and Lily’s son then. Now he’d had months to get to know Harry as his own person and loved the boy even more than he’d thought possible. 

“You can live in the little house I guess.” Harry might have given in but his facial expression, nose wrinkling, and eyebrows furled made it clear he still wasn’t entirely happy. “I’m sorry I called it stupid.”

“Thank you.” He held out his hand, thinking perhaps to offer it as a shake on a deal. Harry bypassed it completely and threw himself into Remus’ lap, small arms wrapping around him as far as they could reach. Remus blinked twice to clear his vision.

“I told you he wasn’t actually mad at you.” It was probably one of Sirius’ least annoying ‘I told you so’s.' There wasn’t a trace of smugness in his voice as he flicked his wand to send the map back to its place on the wall.

Remus didn’t say anything, just held Harry closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up is tea at the Tonks' house. I adore Andromeda. Also bless her bluntness.


	23. The Tonks Tea Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius and Remus have tea with Andromeda and Ted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a couple of people have mentioned Tonks, and she will be in a chapter soon but at the moment she's at school.

“I think I’ll head down to the cottage and work on the squeaking floorboard,” Remus suggested at a quarter to three on Monday. Sirius caught him by the back of his cardigan and held fast.

“The floorboard can stay squeaking. You’re not leaving me alone with my cousin. Who knows what she might bring up. She might want to talk about feelings.” Andromeda had the Black family confidence tempered with empathy, but like the rest of the family she didn’t think anything that she was interested was out of bounds. “Besides, you already promised and they already know you’re coming.”

“She probably only said yes to placate you. She barely knows me.” He didn’t put up any argument, though, and Sirius rolled his eyes. He’d known it was just a game. Remus was wearing what passed, for him, as a nicer outfit. The cardigan didn’t have any patches and the sleeves of his shirt were barely frayed. 

“Don’t be a berk.” Sirius and Remus headed for the library. He generally flooed to his cousin’s house unless his arrival was unexpected. When they reached the library, however, they found that Harry was waiting for them.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Nani, sprog?” Harry occasionally visited the Tonks house with him, but usually only when Dora was around. Harry adored Sirius’ younger cousin, and Dora was surprisingly patient with him. Sirius liked to tease Andromeda that she clearly should have had more kids. Andromeda replied that the one they had was energetic enough.

“I wanted a hug.” Harry reached up and of course Sirius couldn’t resist.

“I’ll be back before dinner,” he reassured before putting Harry down.

“And Uncle Remus too?” Ever since their little ‘incident’ four days earlier Harry had been wary to let them out of his sight. Remus had decided that it was best to wait a few weeks before moving even though the cottage was almost habitable, to give Harry time to get used to the idea.

“I have to go get my medicine first, but then I’ll be here okay?” Remus was halfway through his second month at St. Mungo’s and Sirius was relieved to see that he seemed to be tolerating it better. Though more tired than usual he didn’t seem to have any of the extreme exhaustion, making it to breakfast even when he had to miss his morning walk with Harry, and if he was nauseous he was taking pains to hide it.

After a hug from Remus Harry seemed satisfied and ran off to find his Nani who had promised him some time in the greenhouse. Sirius picked up a handful of floo powder and looked over his shoulder. “Ready?”

“Would it make any difference if I said no?” 

Moments later they were both in the Tonks drawing-room. Above the fireplace were a trio of house banners, the Slytherin one framed by two Hufflepuff, one clearly newer.

“Ted was absolutely chuffed when she told us she was sorted into his house. I was just glad she wasn’t sorted into mine.” Andromeda greeted them a moment later, wearing green robes in the latest fashion. While Sirius had rebelled in every way possible, Andromeda still preferred some of the habits from their childhood including the more formal and purely wizard clothing. Sirius looked down at his jeans and jersey and wasn’t bothered by either. “Or yours, for that matter. She’s enough to keep track of without some of the more rash Gryffindor tendencies.”

“Rash? I don’t know what you’re talking about. We were always well behaved and perfectly calm.” Behind him he could hear the choking noise that meant Remus was smothering a laugh. Sirius ignored him, kissing his cousin on each cheek. He’d run into her in August by accident when he was at Diagon Alley. She was shopping for school supplies, her daughter being just weeks away from beginning at Hogwarts. The last time they’d actually sat down together had been before Harry’s birthday. “You look lovely as always, cousin.” 

“You are a ridiculous flatterer, cousin.” Andromeda studied him for a moment, really looking at him in a way that very few ever did. “How are you?”

“Brilliant as always.” He plastered on his best smile, the one that would fool almost anyone. 

“I heard about Peter. And I know a fews days ago it was…”

“We don’t want to let the tea get cold.” Of course Andromeda wasn’t fooled, not that he’d expected her to be. She was more to the point than he’d been expecting, but she also had years of etiquette training just like he did, and it was customary to feed your guests before grilling them.

“You did the same thing when you were a boy, you know. Always trying to redirect attention somewhere else unless you had a reason to want the attention.” She shook her head but stopped herself from scolding him as she had in their younger years. She was almost a decade his elder and had always taken on a maternal role that was far gentler than his own experience with mothering, and more honest though he didn’t always appreciate that. She led them to the dining room where the table had been set for four. Sirius knew that Andromeda had as much talent in the kitchen as he did, owing to their childhoods with house elves, and that it was Ted who made all the food.

“‘Dromeda, you remember Remus don’t you? I believe the one and only time you asked me to babysit it was on the proviso that Remus would come as well. Something about doubting my abilities.” He and Remus had spent one very entertaining evening with Dora when she was a bit older than Harry and still not in control of her morphing abilities. 

“I think it was more about your responsibility and not wanting to find out any part of my house had caught on fire.” Sirius ignored Remus’ pointed look as he settled in the chair next to him. It wasn’t a small table but they were close enough that their elbows touched. He was used to sitting alone facing Ted and his cousin and it was nice to have someone on his side. “You’ve been traveling, haven’t you Remus? I’m sure Sirius is pleased that you’re back.”

“Completely chuffed and over the moon that he’s back where he belongs.” Sirius laughed at the private joke, knowing without looking that Remus was rolling his eyes. He was half surprised that Remus hadn’t kicked him in the shins as he might have done when they were in school. “He’s looking for work, by the way. If Ted knows anyone looking to have a bit of editing done would you pass on the information? Or tutoring, because you probably remember how brilliant he is with kids.”

“Yes, I’ve traveled quite a bit. And you can ignore Sirius, he apparently thinks he’s my agent.” Remus kicked him under the table, proving that their school days weren’t actually that far behind them. “It’s nice to see you again. I hope your daughter is doing well.”

“Nymphadora started at Hogwarts just this fall. She’s a Hufflepuff, so that’s another first for my side of the family. And I make it a habit to ignore at least half of what Sirius says.” 

“You know you love me,” Sirius said cheekily when Andromeda left to check on Ted in the kitchen. He turned his attention back to Remus. “Ted’s a reader on WWN. He might know people that need copy edited or something.”

“I had no idea that was your cousin Ted.” Remus looked thoughtful. “Don’t pester him about it though. Monty’s found a few people who need translations and I have my money from the study.”

Sirius was spared from saying something pointed about the study - being paid to drink poison - by both Andromeda and Ted entering the room. Ted carried a pot of tea with him. After a round of polite greetings they were all settled. Andromeda mothered the pot, serving everyone in turn. Ted passed around plates filled with far too much food. Sirius was glad to see that a sample of everything ended up on Remus’ plate. Enough feasts and he might actually have to buy larger trousers.

“You interrupted earlier, but I really do want to know how you’re holding up, Siri. The news that Peter had been caught…”

“Had been long expected and I’m just glad that it finally happened. There’s nothing else to talk about, unless you want to talk about how he might fare with his fellow Death Eaters or how long it might take before he gets a kiss.” Sirius grimaced, remembering that her sister was also in Azkaban. He tried not to think about his cousin Bella.

“Sirius,” Remus said in a low voice.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” He didn’t like to think about how he would have felt if Reggie was in Azkaban. Even the not knowing seemed better than that.

“It’s nothing that hasn’t been said here before.” Ted reached over to squeeze his wife’s hand.

“There’s no good in hiding from what kind of people they are, my sister or your friend. They made choices and now they are paying from them.” Andromeda pursued her lips together and looked down at her plate. “We’ve made our own choices as well and those matter more. I just want to be sure you’re coping alright, Siri.”

“Peter being caught means Remus is back home so if anything I’m coping better than usual.” Andromeda was good at getting him to admit to things when she pushed hard enough, and was one of the few people he’d talked to about being lonely. “But if it makes you feel better I’ve talked about it with Remus, alright? As you can imagine he’s that adult type person that actually does things like work through issues. Sometimes, at least. Happy?

“I’m glad you have someone to talk to.” Andromeda looked from one to the other and looked like she wanted to say something else, but decided against it. “I have to confess I do have an ulterior motive for wanting to see you today, so I suppose we might as well move onto that.”

“How very devious, ‘Dromeda. I approve.”

“I’m more interested in your agreement then your approval. I have a favor to ask.”

“You’re in no way obliged to say yes,” Ted said before Sirius could say anything.

“Anything for my favorite cousin.” He couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually asked him for anything more complicated than a dinner invitation. He was curious. 

“Ted and I are taking a trip to Greece. It’s the first two weeks of January, and it’s for Ted’s work so there’s no way to change the date. We’d planned to take Nymphadora, we usually do, but she’s refusing to miss even a day of school, and we can’t come back early because of a work commitment.”

“Andi could come back, she just doesn’t want to miss the ball,” Ted added with a fond smile at his wife. “She loves to dance.”

“I’ll never understand that, ‘Dromeda. Those lessons we had to take with the private instructor were horrible. It was more fun being taught by McGonagall but even after that I can’t stand it.” Sirius glanced sideways at Remus who just shrugged and gave him an odd look. Probably remembering James and McGonagall dancing together.

“You’ve never danced with my Ted.” Andromeda broke off a piece of scone and carefully spread on a little lemon curd. “You might feel differently if you were dancing with someone you cared about. However that’s not the point.”

“What is the point?” The Victoria sponge, Sirius decided, was his favorite today. Ted had done something different to the jam that he couldn’t explain but tasted perfect.

“We need someone to watch our daughter for ten days and then put her on the train to Hogwarts.”

“I’m still waiting for the favor part. Do you need me to give her a ride to the station?” Andromeda stared at him pointedly and it dawned on him. “You want  _ me _ to watch her?”

“You’re asking him?” Remus seemed just as surprised. “I’m not sure you want to know what he got up to in his first year at Hogwarts, but I was there and I can tell you that you’re going to want rules about what stories he’s allowed to tell.”

“Shut it.” Sirius elbowed Remus in the ribs. “Like you weren’t right next to me causing just as much trouble.”

“You and I remember first year very different, apparently. I was still half certain that I was going to be kicked out of school at any point. It was months before I could properly enjoy a prank.”

“Have I ever mentioned, ‘Dromeda, that my best mate is a compulsive liar? All joking aside, though, of course we’ll watch her. Harry will be delighted. He’s heard all my stories about Hogwarts, or at least the ones he’d old enough for, and will be pleased to hear more recent adventures.” He was not at all confident about his ability to watch an eleven-year-old for almost two weeks but if he could handle a four-year-old it shouldn’t be that hard. 

“You’re a dear. I’m glad that’s settled. I’ll write Dora tomorrow and let her know. She wanted to know if she would get to see you over the holiday, so this wraps things up quite nicely.” Andromeda settled in for a good visit after that, and mercifully didn’t ask again about Peter. She started once, but Ted redirected the conversation.

“You go ahead and show Remus the garden, Ted. I know you’re dying to give him advice about his herb beds. I think there’s just enough tea in the pot for Siri and me to finish it up.” Somehow the conversation had drifted to Remus’ cottage and his plans for a garden, a subject near and dear to Ted’s Hufflepuff heart. Sirius didn’t have a reason to think it was anything but a coincidence until Ted and Remus were outside and his cousin was giving him a rather pointed look.

“You don’t have to worry about any ideas I might give Dora about pranks. That’s privilege information, and I’m saving up for Harry.” It seemed strange that it was less than seven years until his godson would be at Hogwarts. Even stranger to think that he would be over thirty by then.

“She is pretty skilled at coming up with ideas on her own. I’ve already had a letter from Pomona about some rather creative ways she’s found to use her metamorphosis skills.” Andromeda shook her head in fond amusement and exasperation. “I’m not worried. You’re a good parent, Siri, and a good man.”

“Now who is using the ridiculous flattery?” Sirius rolled his eyes. He never thought of himself as ‘parent.’ That was like stealing something that belonged to James and Lily. He was a guardian, a godfather, and sometimes barely adult enough to take care of himself let alone someone else.

“I wanted to say something before you left. It’s not about Peter,” she held up a hand when he opened his mouth to protest. “I know you’re not going to talk about that to me and that’s fine as long as you really are coping with it. It’s about Remus.”

“What about Remus? I know Dora probably doesn’t remember him, but he really is good with children. Harry adores him.” He had prepared himself for an unwanted conversation, but this one was simply confusing.

“I’m not worried about that. I know he’s a good person.” Andromeda took a moment, looking down at her hands. One finger rested on her wedding band as if it gave her comfort. Sirius frowned. His cousin had a love of making things orderly, and that applied to not only the things around her but the people as well. She wasn’t the type to hesitate about making her opinions known. 

“But you’re worried about something?” he asked. He had no idea what she might know about Remus that he didn’t. Had there been a story on the wireless that he’d missed about the anniversary?

“No, not worried.” Andromeda shook her head. “I suppose you might call it a clarification. You and I were raised with certain prejudices, as you know. And some of them have taken a long time to unlearn, but I want to make it clear that I’m happy that you and Remus are back together. I love you and I want you to be happy. If you wanted to tell me anything now or in the future I just want you to know that you have my support. Mine and Ted’s. You're my family and I love you."  


Sirius stared at her, certain that he had missed something somewhere. He blinked repeatedly but she was still watching him and waiting for something. And then it hit him, and his eyes widened. “Oh. Um, thank you?”

Sirius still wasn’t sure what to say when Remus and Ted returned, Remus carrying a small pot with something green in it. They made their farewells and headed for the front door.

“I have five minutes before I have to apparate to St. Mungo’s. Do you want to tell me why it looks like something is bothering you? What did your cousin say when you were alone together?” 

“I think my cousin knows you’re a werewolf.”   


“What?” Remus almost dropped the potted herbs.

“It’s okay, she doesn’t seem phased by it.” He had to wonder how long she’d known and how she’d figured it out. She’d been gone from Hogwarts already when Remus had started there and the whomping willow had been planted. His parents didn’t know, and he certainly hadn’t told anyone.

“She told you that she knows what I am?”

“She told me that she doesn’t care about what we were taught as kids, that the old prejudices don’t matter to her and she’d just happy for you and me. You know what my family thought about Dark creatures.” He didn’t want to say any of it out loud. His parents stuffed and mounted their own house-elves, and that was tame compared to what they would have done to a werewolf.

“Did she actually say anything about being a werewolf?” Moony looked pale, which was understandable considering how hard he fought to keep the secret.

“It’s okay, Moons.” He touched his friend’s shoulder. “And no, not exactly.”

“What, exactly, did she say?”

“She was glad that you were back, that I could tell her anything, and that she and Ted both supported me. That she was happy for you and me being back together.”

“I don’t think that was what she was talking about, Pads.” And yet Remus didn’t seem relieved, his face pale and the scar on his cheek standing out more prominently. 

“What else could she be talking about?” There was a muggle book Lily had lent him once, about a girl that fell down a rabbit hole and entered a strange kingdom. Today was feeling a lot like he was the one who had fallen into someplace where things were upside down. No one was making any sense.

“I’m going to be late, Padfoot. I have to go.” And with the sharp crack of apparition Remus was gone and Sirius was left alone in his cousin’s yard, holding a potted plant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sirius isn't thick, exactly. He's just so used to being friends with Remus and people talking about them/the Marauders as a group that it doesn't occur to him (yet) what Andromeda means. But I'm happy to say that we're shifting out of 'slow as molasses' shippiness. The subtext is rapidly going to become text.


	24. His Own Brand of Cowardice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus isn't quite ready to go home. Sirius muses over what his cousin might have been trying to say.

There were many times over his life when Remus had questioned the hat’s wisdom in sorting him into Gryffindor. Hufflepuff would have been a safe bet. When the dorm room was too loud he would lament that he wasn’t in Ravenclaw, but he was never serious about that. His real problem was courage and bravery, and his lack of both. The required hour in the St Mungo’s waiting room passed but he didn’t head for the closest floo. Instead he left St Mungo’s.

The Leaky Cauldron was only a few blocks from the hospital. Wizarding London was a relatively small place, based on an old wizarding town that had existed long before muggles had settled the area and installed their kings and queens. The pub was busy enough with the dinner crowd, tables full but the bar was fairly empty. He ordered himself a pint of ale, more as a reason to stay rather than from any actual interest in drinking. He couldn't stay too long; Sirius would worry that something had gone wrong with the potion and Harry would just worry that he wasn’t home for dinner. He could give himself a little more time to be a coward, though. 

Andromeda thought he and Sirius were together. Remus didn’t know how the conversation had gone so askew that Sirius thought they were talking about werewolves, but he could guess why Andromeda had the impression that she did, and it was all his fault. After all, he’d been in love with his best friend for years and Andromeda was a very perceptive woman.

“The beef stew is good tonight if you’re hungry,” the bartender offered as he pushed the pint towards him. He flashed a grin. “Or I can make another suggestion about things that you might find tasty.”

“Just the drink, thanks,” he said politely, barely registering the fairly blatant flirting. He would never understand strangers flirting like that, especially not when the bloke was fit and he was a twenty-four year old with greying hair, creaking joints, and a cardigan. Mostly he was just glad that the ale washed away the lingering bitterness of the wolfsbane.

“You can always change your mind,” the bartender said before moving on to the next customer. He reached out to brush his hand against Remus’ but Remus picked up his drink again. He was always a bit leary of touching strangers, or rather reasons why they might want to touch him.

Change his mind. That was the rub. Maybe he could change his mind but he couldn’t change his heart and he’d loved Sirius for years. He’d still been in school when he’d not only realized it but accepted it as a fact and decided that it was a lifelong secret. By the time he’d realized that he loved Sirius he’d already come to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to marry or have children so it seemed almost a natural progression that he would also love his best friend without saying anything. His friendship with Sirius was more important than any slim possibility that his love might be returned in a romantic sense. Now that he knew what it was like to lose that friendship he was twice as certain that he’d made the right choice.

With a sigh Remus downed the rest of his ale. He needed to get home, and if he stayed too long a drink would become two, and he’d find more reasons not to leave. After paying for his drink he headed for the door. He was stopped just before he left by a very large but familiar-looking man. “Oi, Remus Lupin as I live and breathe. I haven’t seen you since, well…”

“Hullo, Hagrid. You’re having a good evening, I hope.” The glass in front of the Hogwarts gamekeeper looked almost big enough for Harry to take a bath, so Hagrid’s evening looked to be starting well. Hagrid did have a rather large appetite and a fondness of drink. Once when he and his friends had decided they were going to try and add the forest to their map they had bought Hagrid a bottle of Ogden’s best so they could ask him questions. It had barely lasted ten minutes and hadn’t made him very drunk at all.

“Waiting to pick up some supplies for school, thought I’d pass the time. Have a drink with me, won’t you?” Hagrid offered.

“Thanks, but I have to get home.” He would never get home at a decent time if Hagrid started talking.

“Another time,” Hagrid commented with a decisive nod. He looked at Remus, his expression more sober than usual. “Say hello to Sirius from me. He’s a good ‘un, that boy, taking care of James and Lily’s little ‘un. You were always kind, your lot. I never would have guessed…”

“I’ll tell him,” Remus said in a hurry, having a good guess what Hagrid never would have guessed. He was no more eager to talk about Peter then Sirius had been when his cousin had prodded at the tender subject. 

Once outside he took a moment to breathe in the night air and make sure he could focus before he apparated into the garden of the Potter home. He could tell from the chatter as he slipped into the side door that everyone was at the dinner table. Though it was tempting to head for the stairs he knew that it wasn’t fair to Sirius or Harry, and headed for the dinner table instead.

“There’s a warming charm on the food, dear. Make yourself a plate.” Effie smiled at him when he came in. 

“The samosas are a bit spicy, so consider the state of your stomach,” Monty advised as he took a large bite of his own samosa. “Has the nausea returned this time?”

“Alright, Moony?” Sirius looked at him, head slightly tilted to one side. It hadn’t even been two hours since they had spoken, but Remus felt as if the whole of their existence was tilted slightly. But of course his only answer was to shrug.

“Fine.” He decided to risk the samosa; his stomach was queasy but that had more to do with nerves than the potion. He took a little of everything else, not feeling very hungry but knowing better than to sit at the table with a mostly empty plate. Sirius and Effie would both fuss.

“Me and Nani threw nomies as far as we could,” Harry informed him when he sat down. He slid over so he could sit as close to Remus as he could. Somehow Harry’s peas found their way from his plate to Remus’ but that was probably only part of the reason he wanted to sit so close. 

“Gnomes, sweetheart. They won’t leave my motherwort alone. It was a well-deserved eviction.” Effie smiled mischievously, a smile Remus recognized well from James. 

“Speaking of gardening I left your herbs in your bedroom, Remus. Wasn’t sure your plans for them.” Sirius seemed more interested in looking at him than his own dinner. Remus braced himself for the conversation that he was sure would have to happen. He had left their last conversation rather abruptly.

“Ted donated some herbs to my new garden,” Remus explained to Effie, who was looking at him curiously. “He has quite a green thumb with his garden.”

“Unlike ‘Dromeda who has a black thumb Get it? Black thumb?” Sirius held up his own hand, thumb sticking out. It was impossible not to laugh. Harry, of course, didn’t know why he was laughing but he held up his hand as well, a show of solidarity.

“That’s terrible, Pads,” Remus said when he could keep a straight face. It had felt good to laugh, though.

After dinner Harry insisted on a bedtime story, spoiling Remus’ plans to try and just vanish to his room. When the story was over and hugs were given he was finally able to leave Sirius to do the rest of the bedtime ritual. With relief he settled in the armchair in his room.

“Moony?” Remus groaned when Sirius tapped on the door just a few minutes later. He had two options, and apparating to the cottage was a step too far even for his own brand of cowardice. His joints protested as he rose and opened the door. 

“Harry doesn’t usually let you off that quickly.” Remus didn’t have much experience with four-year-olds but he suspected procrastinating at bedtime was fairly common. Harry liked his one last glass of water, his extra hug, and always insisted that someone looked under the bed to make sure there were no bogarts hiding.

“We should find gnomes for him more often. I think chasing them down and throwing them out of the greenhouse has worn him out.” Sirius rarely waited for an invitation, and entered his room without thought, settling on the end of the bed. After sharing a dorm for seven years and then a flat it would have been stranger if he had asked. “Everything alright at Mungo’s?”

“Same as usual.” There wasn’t much to say about the potion or the hour-long wait, not unless he got into his existential dread about the moon in four day’s time and was something he was even less interested in discussing than their visit to Andromeda’s, if that was possible. 

“I ran into Hagrid when I was leaving.” He didn’t need to mention that he’d taken the long way around and left through the pub. “Promised him I’d say hello to you.”

“We should visit him sometime. He’d get a kick out of seeing Harry. Remember the first time Lily took Harry to see him, and he was smaller than Hagrid’s hand? Hagrid cradled him with three fingers and sang that lullaby that made the dog start howling..”

“I remember.” Hagrid had been as pleased as anything that James and Lily had visited specifically so he could meet their baby. “A visit would be good. You could show the quidditch pitch to Harry too. He’d like that.” 

“Maybe if we go on a Saturday we can get permission to take Dora out for lunch. The sprog would love to see her and it would be nice for the two of you to meet again before she stays here for weeks. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Having lunch with your cousin’s daughter? Of course not.”

“Having her stay here. She’ll be here during one of your Mungo weeks. I didn’t ask you. I was too surprised that I was asked. It means a lot, you know.”

“I’m glad you have a connection with your cousin. And of course Dora should stay here.” Until Sirius had been officially kicked out of the family it had been almost impossible for him to see Andromeda, already an outcast in the family before Sirius started school. There had been one memorable summer day in Diagon Alley when they had been fourteen and had run into the Tonks family. Andromeda had been pushing a pram and Ted had insisted on buying Sirius and his three best mates ice cream. It was the first time Remus had realized that there were Blacks that weren’t like Narcissa and Regulus. But there were no visits to the Tonks’ house or planned outings, not until Sirius was living with the Potters two years later. “I’ll be settled in the cottage by then anyway. Might even be able to transform there rather than at Mungo’s.”

“I’ll be relieved when that’s true. I hate you spending moons without me. To quote Harry, ‘it’s stupid.’” Sirius got off the bed, wandering over to the window where the waxing moon could be seen. “I suppose there’s no getting out of it this month.”

“No.” Remus tried not to think of the basement, the cold cells with the bars fifteen centimeters apart or the corresponding bruises he’d gotten before he’d been able to focus enough to restrain himself. He tried not to think about pain or the desire to hunt or the forced awareness that his body was not his own. “It will be a few more times at least. Maybe it’s better if I’m there when Dora is visiting.”

“Nonsense. She and Harry will be fine at the house, and Padfoot can be at the cottage with you. It will be better, once you can have company. Less boring.”

“Boring is certainly not a character trait you have to worry about.” Unlike himself, who was yawning despite the fact that it was barely nine. “It’s months away, we can figure out the details later. 

“Yeah, of course.” Sirius pulled the curtains on the window closed, knowing that Remus slept better in a dark room. “I’m glad you came with me today, Moons.”

“I’m glad too.” It was good to see that Andromeda understood and cared about Sirius, even if some of her understanding was uncomfortable. He’d enjoyed talking with Ted as well, someone he wouldn’t mind getting to know better. 

“She means well. I trust her, and I can’t say that about anyone else in my family.” Sirius shrugged as if it didn’t mean anything. Anyone who didn’t know him as well as Remus would think he honestly didn’t care about his family, but Remus knew how hard it had been for him to be disinherited, no matter how much he’d fought the family ideals. They were his family and they told him he was worthless. Regulus vanishing, probably dying as a Death Eater, had been an especially painful blow. 

“There’s a reason you two get along so well. She’s a good person and so are you.” Remus yawned again, feeling the weight of the day tugging at him. “I’m sorry, I really need some sleep.”

“G’night Moony. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Remus agreed as Sirius left, shutting the door behind him. Remus was too tired to wonder what the next day might bring.

II

The hour and a half between getting home from Andromeda’s and having dinner was taken up completely by Harry. First he needed to relay everything that had happened since Sirius had left and then he needed a bath. Playing in the greenhouse with his Nani had left him predictably dirty. Sirius was happy for the distraction, as well as the amusement of Harry demonstrating throwing gnomes with a stuffed lion.

By half-past nine, however, everyone else in the house was asleep and Sirius was bored. The owls always appreciated night flights, so he wrote a letter to Professor Sprout while he was thinking of it, asking if it would be possible to take his young cousin to lunch on a Saturday. While he had pen and quill out he wrote to Andromeda as well, letting her know that Sprout might write for permission and thanking her for the tea. It was always good to see his cousin. 

Once the letters were sent off with Freddie, his owl, there was nothing else to do other than clean up his room, which was no more likely to happen than it was when he was fifteen. He’d outgrown the habit of keeping foods that could mold in his room and he rarely messed around with potions but there was always clutter and dirty clothes and he never bothered to clean up the ink stains in his rug. The next ten books he planned to read were stacked next to his bed. He didn’t see any reason to change anything.

Sirius tried to read the book he’d left open the night before but it failed to keep his attention. He flipped through the new copy of Quidditch Monthly but that wasn’t any better. His mind kept wandering to the private conversation with his cousin and Remus’ reaction when they left. It had been brewing in the back of his mind for hours, and like a badly made  _ exstimulo _ potion it now bubbled over.

Andromeda had spoken of unlearning the things they had been taught by their family. It was quite a lengthy list, starting with a belief in the Sacred 28 and the inferiority of anyone with muggle blood, but that was only the tip of a very large and murky iceberg. Dark creatures were considered to be abominations, only to be tolerated when they were useful and always discarded or preferably destroyed afterwards. It had seemed fairly obvious to him that Andromeda had to be referring to Remus’ lycanthropy. His family would have been horrified if they had known that one of his best friends was a werewolf. Sometimes he fantasized about telling his mother, just to see the look on her face. Only the need to keep Remus safe stopped him. That and the fact that he had no desire to step into the ancestral home. He’d avoided it for almost eight years.

Remus seemed certain, though, that Andromeda was talking about some other prejudice. Hope Lupin had been a muggle, so of course there was always the old blood purity thing, but since Ted didn’t even have one magical parent, Sirius couldn’t imagine that she would even consider that an issue. He and Remus had been friends since they were boys, what would be the point in bringing up blood status now?

It was about Remus. His cousin had been clear about that. He tried to remember exactly what she said. She loved him and supported him. He could tell her anything. She had mentioned that she was glad he had his friend back. But no, that wasn’t exactly what Andromeda had said. She had said that it was good that he and Moony were back together. 

Back together?

Sirius sat up, bolted for his door, and ran down the hallway. Remus hadn’t bothered to lock his door, so Sirius didn’t even think about opening it. The room was dark, but that didn’t deter him from speaking.

“Moony is it possible my cousin thinks we are dating?”


	25. A Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus has been keeping a secret for a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been staring at this and rewriting it for a couple of days and I don't know anymore if there are real issues or I'm just too close to see this one. I hope it feels right.
> 
> I appreciate all the feedback, my darlings.

Remus was happily oblivious of anything Sirius was thinking, lost in a much needed dreamless sleep that started about five minutes after he’d changed into flannel pajamas. It ended abruptly an hour later.

“Moony is it possible my cousin thinks we are dating?”

He hoped it was a bad dream. A nightmare. A hallucinogenic side effect of wolfsbane.

“I’m sleeping.” From long experience, he knew that a Sirius that made bold announcements in the middle of the night was not one that would just back down and go to bed. When they were thirteen Sirius had woken up all the rest of the Marauders to announce that they were going to learn how to become animagus and they hadn’t gone back to bed until after a trip to the restricted section of the library and three stolen books. Sometimes Sirius woke up with a half plotted prank or a desire to raid the kitchen. During the war it had sometimes been less pleasant, the late-night hours bringing the news of Dorcas’ death and Cardoc’s disappearance.

“My cousin said the Black Family had a lot of prejudices and that’s a massive understatement. There are literal books filled with the things that are undesirable according to my family passed down for centuries. Fraternizing with someone who is furry every twenty-eight days is on that list, of course, but you knew that wasn’t what ‘Dromeda was talking about. You said so.” He could hear Sirius moving closer, but since the door was closed and the curtains were drawn there was no light in the room.

“People don’t take it that calmly when they learn that someone is a werewolf.” His own experiences were not nearly as bad as some of the stories he’d heard from others. His family hadn’t disinherited him. He had friends. No one had tried to shoot him or poison him with silver.

“I did.” A dull thud told Remus that Sirius had found the footboard of the bed. Fortunately it didn’t sound like he’d found it with his toe.

“You were a twelve-year-old boy. Andromeda is a grown woman with a child who would be staying here over a full moon.” Sirius had been excited, curious, and accepting, once Remus had come back to the dorm and actually listened. His first reaction the moment he realized that his friends knew had been to run and hide. “I really do need some sleep, Pads. An hour is not enough to function on.”

“I’m sure she’d rather Dora sit at a breakfast table with you than with her homicidal Auntie Bella.” The side of the mattress dipped as Sirius found the edge of the bed and sat. Remus tried to tug at the blankets and pull them more tightly around himself. “But that’s not the point.”

“I don’t suppose the point could wait until tomorrow?” Waiting until next week would be better. Or a year past the thirty-ninth day of December.

“She said she was glad that you and I were back together. I thought she meant that you were home and I had my best friend around because she’s always telling me I need more of a social life but I don't think that’s what she meant.” Sirius flopped down on the bed next to him, close enough that his hair brushed against Remus’ face. “I think she thinks we’re dating, and that we used to date.”

“She wouldn’t be the first one.” Remus was grateful for the darkness. He didn’t have to control his face, only his voice, and if he was lucky he could make it through the conversation without giving anything away. “People in school made assumptions. You and me. You and James. We were a very tight-knit group.”

“I never heard anything.”

“I guess l listened a little more.” There were things that a person might not say around a Black, even one that was sorted into Gryffindor, that they would say around a no-name like Remus. Sirius also never worried what other people said about him. Remus always had to be aware of what others might be whispering about his odd habits, his scars, his disappearances. His queerness.

“James was like a brother to me. People really thought we would snog? I mean I know my family does some weird shit with marrying cousins, but that’s just wrong.”

“People see what they want to see.” Even if Remus had any suspicions about Sirius and James they would have been proven wrong the one time they’d kissed during a truth and dare game. It had been hilariously awkward and both had gargled with firewhisky afterward.

“Yeah, but James was stuck on Lily for years, I only dated girls, and you were practically a monk. I think I remember about two dates you went on unless there were ones you kept to yourself.” 

Remus kept completely still, holding his breath and wondering if the darkness would give him the ability to lie. Maybe if he stayed quiet long enough Sirius would assume he’d fallen asleep and leave him alone until morning.

“Moony?” After a moment Sirius shifted, his hand coming up to poke Remus in the shoulder. “Did you go on dates that you didn’t tell us about?”

“Maybe a few.” He hadn’t dated that much in school, but the only ones he’d shared with his friends had been when he was still trying to sort things out and his rare official dates had been girls. By the time he’d done anything more than fumble in a closet with a bloke he’d already realized that he was in love with Sirius, and mentioning dates had felt awkward. “No one I was ever serious about. You know why.”

“The right person wouldn’t care, and anyone who did care could take a flying leap off the astronomy tower. One night a month doesn’t change the fact that you deserve the same things as everyone else. As long as they were good enough for you, of course. Was she good enough? Or them, however many of them there were?”

“There weren’t that many.” He could count the number of people that he’d dated more than once on a single hand. “Two, I think, during seventh year. A couple early in the war.”

“Are you going to tell me their names or make me guess? You know who I dated.”

“In painful detail,” he said jokingly, though at the time he hadn’t been as easy to take. Sirius hadn’t been crass about sharing details, he’d at least been spared any intimate stories, but it had been clear every time Sirius went on a date. Every milestone like a first kiss and first time having sex had been announced to the Marauders. “I knew which ones mooned over you in class too.”

“I wasn’t the only one they were mooning over, my tall and mysterious friend. You know I tried to set you up.”

“They weren’t my type.” Sirius had tried to set him up, most memorably with Dorcas Meadowes. He was lucky Dorcas had considered it a joke. Lily had been more subtle about it, but she had tried as well. There had been one very awkward date with Mary McDonald as a result of Lily’s prodding.

“Who was your type? I had to know them, didn’t I? There weren’t that many girls at school.”

Remus took a breath and stared at the ceiling, or at least in the vague direction of the ceiling. It was too dark in the room to actually see anything, which made it a little easier to make the confession he’d been holding onto for the better part of a decade. He’d come too far now, and nothing short of a porgrebin* sneaking into the room and devouring him in mercy could change the conversation. It wasn’t the first time he’d almost told Sirius, but it was the closest he’d come. “Turns out girls weren’t really my type.”

The silence that followed probably didn’t last for more than a minute, but to Remus it felt like an eternity. He turned his head, trying to see anything at all, but he couldn’t even make out an outline of Sirius and he wasn’t about to turn on a light. “Padfoot?”

“Glad I didn’t take that bet from Prongs, turns out he was more observant than I realized and it would be a bugger to pay him now. He suspected, you know, but he said we should let you tell us when you were ready.”

“He knew?” It had never occurred to him that James would have suspected. 

“Probably had more to do with Lily, since he wasn’t very observant about things like that, but he was worried about you being alone. I think I was mentioning a double date and he was speculating that there was a fundamental flaw in that idea. He loved you, Moons. He just wanted you to be happy.”

“Dating never mattered as much as having you and James as my friends.” If there was one thing about being sorted into Gryffindor that he didn’t question, it was ending up roommates with James and Sirius.

II

Moony liked blokes. Sirius wasn’t sure how he felt about the revelation. Strange was the first word that came to mind. He liked to think he knew Remus Lupin better than almost anyone and it was a pretty big thing not to know. He worried that there was some reason he hadn’t known. It was weird, thinking about the idea that Moony had dated at Hogwarts and he hadn’t known about it. 

“Who did you date at Hogwarts?” He wasn’t very good at wanting to know things and not asking.

“Ian Reynolds for a bit. He was a Ravenclaw a year ahead of us.” Remus spoke after a moment’s pause. Sirius tried to picture Reynolds, and had some vague memory of a dark-haired quidditch player. “I went out with Justin Pomby towards the end of seventh year, but we mutually ended things so we could focus on our NEWTS.” 

“Justin Pomby the healer?  _ Your _ healer from St. Mungo’s?” Sirius didn’t know what was more confusing, the fact that Remus had seen him so recently and could have still felt sparks, or the fact that Sirius had experimented with Justin once or twice when they had been in school and he’d been curious. Justin had been a nice bloke but Sirius hadn’t been able to figure out if he was really interested in boys or simply rebelling in a way he knew his family would hate. 

“That was years ago, and we ended it as friends. He’s married now, you know. He and his husband have a little girl.”

“I didn’t know.” He hadn’t asked, too focused on Remus to even consider asking questions about someone else. Even once he’d woken up Sirius was distracted by thoughts of what it meant that Remus was back, how to get him to stay, and how unhealthy he looked. He was better now, thankfully. The muggle illness was gone, the wounds healed, and while he was still too thin he didn’t look like a breeze could knock him over. “Married, huh?”

“He had a picture on his desk last time I stopped by.” 

“That’s nice.” He didn’t know Remus stopped by to see Justin. He wondered if he had health questions that Sirius should worry about, or if it was a social call. There was no reason to worry about that. Really there wasn’t, even if it did make his stomach feel a bit strange when he thought about it.

“If you have any more questions about my very limited dating past they’re going to have to wait, Pads. I really do need to sleep.” Remus could be a very good actor when he put his mind to it, but he honestly sounded tired. 

“You should get some sleep. I might have accidentally promised Harry we’d make biscuits tomorrow, and you know I’m useless in the kitchen.” It was tempting to just roll over and see if Remus would let him sleep there, but he didn’t want to push. Besides he wasn’t ready for sleep and didn’t want to bother Remus with his restlessness.

Rather than returning to his room Sirius headed for the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. Maybe it would settle his stomach even if it didn’t calm his mind. His thoughts were going a million miles a minute. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *a pogrebin is a Russian demon. "If the beast manages to tail a Human for a few hours, a sense of despair and futility will wash over the Human. When the victim sits or sinks to its knees to weep, the Pogrebin attacks and attempts to devour them. "
> 
> -Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them


	26. Not a 'Morning After'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus is nervous, Sirius is worried, and Harry clearly inherited his stubbornness naturally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you my darlings for all the reads, the reviews, and the patience. I started a new job last week and move tomorrow, so things are a bit hectic. 
> 
> For those that have mentioned Tonks, she'll be in the next chpater.

Remus woke to find that breakfast had long since passed. He might have slept through lunch as well, except that Harry had dragged a stool into his room from somewhere and was trying to climb onto his bed.

“Need some help?” he asked, holding out his hand.

“Uh-huh.” Remus leaned to the side and hoisted Harry up onto the bed. Harry immediately scrambled over him to the empty side of the bed, throwing himself onto the pillow. “I can help you sleep.”

“That’s a nice offer, Harry, but I think I should get up soon.” Not that he wanted to get up, especially. His limbs felt heavy, as if the Earth’s magnetic core was getting stronger and it took more energy to move. The potion hadn’t bothered him as much as the previous month, but it wasn’t without side effects. And then there was Sirius. Late night confessions in the partial safety of darkness were one thing. Looking Sirius in the eyes the morning after was entirely different.

He did not need his brain to think about the words ‘morning after.’

“Padfoot said you needed lots of sleeps in the morning. I don’t need sleeps so you can have mine.” Harry tugged at one of his curls as if trying to figure out how one went about giving their sleep to someone else. 

“That’s very generous of you.” Remus swallowed a laugh.

“What jer-us mean?” Too restless to actually lie down on the pillow for more than a minute, Harry climbed onto Remus’ lap instead.

“It means you’ve very good at sharing with other people.” 

“You can have some of my biscuits too, but we have to make them in the over first. We can have this many.” Harry held up his hand, fingers spread wide.

“You can have two.” Sirius leaned in the doorway of the bedroom, arms cross and a look of bemusement on his face. “I thought I told you that Moony needed to sleep sprog.”

“I was helping. Uncle Remus says I’m a ginny-us.”

“Generous,” Remus corrected gently. “It’s alright, Pads. I don’t like sleeping so late.”

“You don’t like anything that means you’re actually taking care of yourself, you pillock.” Sirius smiled, but he was too far away to get a good look at his eyes. Without seeing his eyes it was a lot harder to know what he was thinking, and he was stubbornly staying in the doorway as if waiting to be invited in. Sirius never waited to be invited in.

“Despite late-night interruptions, I got plenty of sleep.” He shifted his attention to Harry, because it was easier. “What kind of biscuits should we make today?”

“Chocolate ones,” Harry declared.

“A lad after my own heart.” Though he looked down at Harry he could sense Sirius moving into the room, settling at the foot of the bed. He had a thousand and one memories of sitting the same way, him leaning against the headboard and Sirius against the footboard at school, and it helped to settle him a little. Then he looked up to find Sirius watching and any idea of being settled went right out the window. 

“I’m sorry I woke you up last night.” It was an unexpected apology, and Remus wondered if the late-night wake up call was really what Sirius was apologizing for.

“I learned when I was about twelve that being woken up in the middle of the night was going to be a normal part of life with you.” It was a price he was more than willing to pay, and honestly at least half of the time it was amusing or entertaining.

“At least I didn’t dump any water on your head.”

“It was once, and you made me swear to get you out of bed so you didn’t miss class.” The banter was familiar, almost automatic. Sirius seemed to be doing it deliberately, and Remus appreciated the small act.

“Once?” Sirius raised a single eyebrow and tilted his head. Remus shrugged. There was only one time Sirius could be absolutely certain that it was Remus who had used a well-aimed _aguamenti_ spell, and he certainly wasn’t confessing to any school pranks that Sirius hadn’t already worked out. He’d rather not confess to anything at the moment; yesterday had been enough.

“Speaking of water I could use a cup of tea and a hot shower. We have some biscuits to bake, don’t we Harry?” No matter how often he and Sirius had shared a bed there was something different this morning, with Harry cuddled on his lap and their banter feeling entirely too domestic. Even if it was unspoken, his confession from the night before felt like something almost tangible in the room, and it was too easy to leap from being aware that he liked men to guessing that he liked one man in particular. Remus needed a few minutes to himself, a change of locations, and his special brand of armor.

He showed up downstairs ten minutes later in his oldest cardigan, the elbows patched with suede, a button-down and trousers that actually stayed up now without a belt. He found a cup of tea waiting for him, a warming charm keeping it to just the right temperature, and an egg and bacon butty. Thankfully Harry and Sirius hadn’t tried any baking on their own.

“I’ve had a letter from Professor Sprout. We have permission to take Dora to Hogsmead on a Saturday for lunch. I thought the weekend after next would be a good one.” Remus knew that Sirius was thinking about the moon, and that this coming Saturday would be a morning after for him. 

“My Dora?” Harry had been intent on the bowl before him, poking at the yolks of the eggs until they burst rather than actually stirring them. He looked up at Sirius with a grin on his face. “Aunt Andi and Uncle Ted too?”

“Remember how we talked about Dora going to school at Hogwarts? We’re going to visit her there, so no Andi and Ted. You’ll see the castle, though, where your mum and dad went to school,” Sirius patiently explained. Remus focused on the butter he was melting. He hadn’t seen the castle in three years, not since the week he left on his quest to find Peter, not knowing how long he’d be gone.

“And you,” Harry added.

“Me too. And Moony,” Sirius agreed.

“And Grandpa and Nani.” Harry was clearly going through a list of people he knew, which was a rather short list. He wondered what Sirius’ plans were about schooling. Something would have to be done in another year or two; probably sooner so he could have friends his own age. Remus had grown up fairly isolated and Sirius only had his little brother and cousins who were older; he was certain that Sirius would want more for Harry.

“Grandpa went to Hogwarts. Nani went to a different school most of the time, but went to Hogwarts for a year.” Effie had been an exchange student, and though she hadn’t met Fleamont at school Minerva McGonagall had been a fellow student and friend. Remus tried to picture it once, but couldn’t imagine Minerva as any younger than she was, and certainly not a girl younger than himself by almost a decade.

The addition of the flour and cocoa powder to the biscuits distracted them all for a little while, and it wasn’t until the biscuits were in the oven that the conversation returned to the planned trip to Hogsmead.

“If you wanted to go this weekend it would be alright,” Remus offered.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Moony. You know you won’t want to travel this weekend and we’re not going without you.” Sirius shook his head. “We want Moony to come to lunch with us and Dora, don’t we Harry?”

“Uh huh.” Harry nodded decisively. 

“See? It’s decided. Lunch at the Three Broomsticks and then we’ll see what sort of mischief we can get up to in town. Zonko’s is a must, of course. And Honeydukes. I’ll ask Madame Hooch about taking Harry to see the quidditch pitch, like you mentioned the other day. He’d love that.”

“I should stop by and visit Dumbledore. He’ll know we’re visiting. And I’d like to see Poppy.” He’d written to the matron of the hospital wing a few times but hadn’t been in a place to receive any letters.

“Personal or professional visit with Pomfry?” Sirius had grimaced when he’d mentioned Dumbledore, but didn’t seem to be mentioning him. It was probably a good idea to to keep the two separate.

“Just to say hello.” If they happened to talk over the side effects of wolfsbane that was one thing, but he didn’t need to mention that. “I’m…”

“Fine. Yeah, I know.” Sirius rolled his eyes. It was time to check the biscuits, so Remus was able to ignore him easily. Soon they were focused on their treat and debating with Harry just what constituted “only two biscuits.” There was no time to talk about people they might run into at Hogwarts, and to Remus’ relief their conversation from the night before wasn’t mentioned.

II

“I want a story.” Harry was in bed, dressed in his quidditch pajamas, but was being stubborn about laying down.

“A book story or a Hogwarts story?” In the three days since he’d found out about their planned trip to the school, Harry had demanded stories of Hogwarts at all times of the day. He must have told half a dozen stories already in the hours since Harry woke up.

“Nuh uh.” Harry shook his head, his small eyebrows drawn close together. “Want a Remus story.”

“Remus can’t tell you a story tonight, sprog. He’s not here, remember?” Out of habit, Sirius glanced at the window, even though the drawn curtains meant that he couldn’t see the full moon. “That’s why he told you a story after lunch today.”

“Want another one. Want the dancing.” Over the weekend they’d had their promised bonfire and Remus had been convinced to tell them a story about the tribe he’d stayed with while in the Amazon. Much to Sirius’ amusement and Harry’s delight Remus had demonstrated one of the dances that he’d been taught. 

“I know.” He couldn't argue with Harry when they were feeling the same thing. Remus had left right after dinner, looking too pale and acting quieter than his usual self. He’d been quiet for the last few days. He said the effects of the wolfsbane wasn’t as bad this month, but when pressed he insisted that nothing else was bothering him. “I promise he’d rather be here with you.”

“Want to go see him now.” Harry wiggled out of his blankets, seemingly intent on leaving the room and probably making his way to the closest floo. Sirius caught him before he could reach the edge of the bed. Harry's bed was too small for the both of them, so he carried Harry to his own room.

“We can’t visit Moony, sprog.” He closed the door behind him, making his way to the bed and pulling down the blankets with one hand. Though he wasn’t anywhere near ready for sleep he knew Harry would sleep better if he was in the bed as well, so he pulled the blankets up over the both of them. “They don’t allow visitors at night.” 

“When I throwed up all the night you sat next to my bed.” Harry had been sick once in the spring, which might have been owing to too many sweets after a trip to Diagon. In retrospect ice cream and chocolate and butterbeer had been a bad idea. It hadn’t stopped him from worrying that Harry might have caught something dangerous.

“I did.” How did he explain to a four year old that the gentlest and kindest man was something else entirely for a few hours a month? That no matter what they wanted there was no way to change the fact that Remus would shift and change and feel the pain of a transformation every time the damn moon was full? It was hard enough to understand when he was twenty-four and had spent half his life with Remus. “But they have different rules at St. Mungo’s then we do at home. Remember when grandpa was sick and we couldn’t see him at night either?”

“Nani seen him at night,” Harry said stubbornly. And it was amazing, really, how good his memory was, especially considering that was months ago.

“Sometimes there are special rules when people are married, like your nani and grandpa.” It was a simpler way to explain things to Harry, even if the situations weren’t the same at all.

“I’m gonna marry Moony and then I can visit and they can’t say nothing.” Despite himself Harry’s eyes were starting to fall. He fought it, eyes opening wide for a moment before drooping again.

“I think you have to be a little older first, love.” He tucked the blankets more firmly around Harry, smiling a little at the reasoning of a four year old. He couldn’t fault the logic; it sounded like something James might have argued. “He’ll be here when you get up in the morning, okay?”

“Promise?” Harry asked sleepily.

“I promise.” Not even Harry woke up earlier than moonset. Thankfully Moony would be home in the early hours of the morning, exhausted but safe. Sirius would be waiting. Once Harry was asleep he’d be able to go down the library to keep his vigil. Even when Remus had been a continent away he’d had trouble sleeping when the moon was full.

“Padfoot?” He was almost convinced that Harry had fallen asleep.

“It’s time for sleep, sprog. We can talk more tomorrow.” 

“You’re bigger than me. You could marry Remus.” Harry didn’t even open his eyes, and a moment later his breathing changed and he was falling into sleep. Sirius covered his mouth to keep from laughing too loud. Marry Remus. It was a ridiculous idea, though if it meant that he could be at St Mungo’s tonight he would do it. It might seem obvious reasoning to a four year old, but it didn’t actually make sense. Honestly the idea of marrying had always seemed like something of a joke ever since he’d been told at the age of thirteen that his future bride had already been selected for him. And what would be the point? He couldn’t possibly end up with a better kid than Harry, and the person that he most wanted in his life was Remus. He didn’t need to marry Remus to keep him around.

Did Remus want to marry someone? He’d never mentioned marriage before, but then again he’d never mentioned being attracted to men either and apparently had been hiding a whole dating history. The fact that Justin was married as a relief, but he’d dated others. Maybe he’d dated recently. Was there a man in France waiting for Remus to one day return? Or someone in America Remus had only reluctantly left behind? Sirius couldn’t help but remember Remus watching Lily and James exchanging their vows and wiping away a tear. Did he want what they’d had? Remus was stubborn about moving to the cottage and that was okay, it was only at the end of the garden. But what if he one day wanted to move farther and set up housekeeping with someone else?

Merlin’s bloody balls.

He needed to stop thinking about it. Just because he didn’t care about being married didn’t mean Remus had to feel the same. Moony deserved everything, including love and a relationship with someone, just as long as they were good enough for him. But that was a problem for another day. Now that Harry was sleeping he could head down to the library and wait for the moon to set and Remus to come home. He stopped in the kitchen first to make a mug of hot cocoa. He could put a warming charm on it and have it ready when Remus needed it. Chocolate always made him feel better.

It was almost an hour past moonset when Remus staggered through the fireplace in a flash of green flame. Once again he carried his shoes. This time he was also carrying his cardigan.

“Sit.” He pulled Remus down onto the sofa, wrapping him in a blanket before kneeling before him and putting slippers on the blocks of ice he called his feet. He handed Remus the mug. “Drink, you’ll feel better.”

“Tired,” Remus muttered, listing to the side slightly. Sirius sat next to him and helped guide the mug of hot chocolate to his mouth. Almost like a wind up toy he was still until Sirius moved his hands, but at a touch he raised the mug to his mouth and drank. He repeated the action until the mug was empty, his weight heavy against Sirius’ side. It wouldn’t take much for him to fall asleep right there.

“Alright, Moony, up to bed before you pass out on me.” He helped Remus to his feet. “Alright?”

“Sleep.” He didn’t elaborate, so even if he meant that he wanted to sleep on the sofa Sirius ignored him and helped him up the stairs. He’d sleep better in a bed. The journey up the stairs took a few gentle nudges when Remus seemed close to sleeping on whatever step he’d stopped on. Finally they reached the top of the stairs and turned left

“Not my room.” Remus turned to him, sounding confused.

“Mine’s closer.” It wouldn’t take much extra work to get Remus into his own bed, but for some reason it didn’t set well on Sirius tonight. He wanted Remus where he could keep an eye on him. It was logical, he might argue if someone had asked, but the truth was he was only acting on instinct. “Don’t worry about anything Moons. Just get some sleep.”

“Harry…”

“Yeah, he wasn’t sleeping well tonight without a story from his uncle Remus. In true Marauder style he wanted to storm the castle gates and find you.” He didn’t need to mention Harry’s other plans. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t wake you up in the morning.”

“‘S alright.” Remus curled up on his side, seeming to protect his left arm a little. Sirius would have to check it out in the morning and make sure he hadn’t strained anything more than usual. For now he got into bed on the other side so Harry was between them. He watched Harry and Remus sleeping until he too drifted off to sleep. 


	27. A Visit to Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus, Sirius, and Harry visit Hogwarts and see some old friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience darlings. I moved a few days after I posted the last chapter and it's taken me a bit to unpack and get settled. I made it a goal to write every day but sometimes that meant only a paragraph or two. The next chapter shouldn't take nearly as long.
> 
> As promised this is the introduction of Tonks. Just a few words here about her. Obviously, when we meet her at 23 she's adamant about her name. At 11 she's just beginning to sort things out in terms of identity and names, so her name is more fluid in my story, in terms of calling her Tonks and Dora. She'll show up more later, this is just a taste.

“Remus. Sirius. And young Harry, of course.” Dumbledore was waiting for them when they opened the doors to the entrance hall. Sirius’ laughter faded and his eyes narrowed as he took a half step forward, not from any interest in greeting Dumbledore, but more to keep Harry behind him.

“I didn’t tell him we were coming,” Remus said under his breath so only Sirius would hear. Then again it was Dumbledore and it wasn’t a surprise when he knew everything.

“I sent McGonagall a letter about visiting. Harry and I will be in her office.” Sirius gave Remus a look, pausing for a moment of silence until Remus nodded his agreement. Sirius then bent down and whispered something to Harry that sounded a lot like ‘race’ before they both ran to the stairs with the barest glance in Dumbledore’s direction.

“You’re looking well, Remus.” Dumbledore seemed neither surprised nor perturbed at Sirius’ exit.

“I’m alright.” Remus didn’t realize he’d raised his hand to cover his cheek, the most obvious of his scars, until he noticed Dumbledore’s pointed look. His scars were hardly a secret, he wasn’t sure why it bothered him now. The one on his cheek was only a few years old, from a bad full moon in Lithuania. Perhaps he was ashamed he’d scarred himself. Perhaps it was the fact that his last years at school had been so scar-free, thanks to his friends and his betrayal of Dumbledore’s trust.

“Minerva mentioned that you’ve been staying with the Potters since you’ve returned from your journey. I always found that travel broadens the mind but there’s nothing quite like returning home.” Remus found himself walking without thinking about it too much as Dumbledore started for the stairs at a much slower pace than Harry and Sirius.

“It was an education.” He wasn’t sure what to say about home. His childhood farm was for sale and he certainly hadn’t intended to stay with Sirius and the Potters for so long. While it felt more like home than anyplace had in years it wasn’t his to claim. The cottage, perhaps, was an opportunity to settle into a place that was his own. “I was lucky enough to find people along the way to share their magic. I found the southwestern part of the States to be especially interesting.”

“I’m afraid I never had the opportunity to journey in that region, though I’ve had a past student or two tell me tales. Perhaps sometime we’ll share a tea or something stronger and you can tell me about your travels.” Remus glanced sideways at ‘something stronger,’ the idea of Dumbledore drinking alcohol hard to fathom.

“Of course, sir.” Sirius wouldn’t like it, but it wasn’t his decision to make. His ire at their headmaster was simple, while Remus’ feelings were much more complicated. It had been Dumbledore that had allowed him to come to school, even after it had become blatantly obvious that he was a danger to others. He could still remember sitting on the floor with the man, just months after turning eleven and days after a full moon, playing gobstones and talking about school. He remembered too, feeling sick to his stomach when Dumbledore first spoke of Greyback’s pack and the need for someone to join them. 

“Mr. Black and young Mr. Potter are also invited, of course.” Dumbledore paused for a moment in front of a painting of a dog sleeping in front of a fire. “I was sorry to hear about Mr. Pettigrew. One always hopes that somehow these things aren’t really true.”

“Things are what they are, no matter what we wish they were.” He didn’t want to think about Peter or what he’d done. He especially didn’t want to think about where Peter was right now and what was happening to him. Did he see his betrayal every time a dementor came close? Did he hear James’ voice or Lily’s humming as she rocked Harry?

“Not everything, Remus. Some things can be changed if we try hard enough.” Dumbledore shook his head. “Azkaban is a terrible place.”

“I’m sorry, I have to go. I promised Madame Pomfrey.” He didn’t know if Dumbledore was making idle conversation, offering sympathy, or leading to something. He didn’t dare stay around long enough to find out, knowing that his ability to say no to requests from the headmaster was weak. 

“Of course. I hope to see you soon, Remus.” Dumbledore paused, and Remus found they were standing at the corridor that led to the hospital wing. Strange, he didn’t think they were anywhere near the place.

“Thank you, headmaster.” He traveled the corridor alone, pausing outside of the door to take a breath. The room beyond was almost as familiar to him as his dorm room, and carried many memories, both painful and happy. In the beginning it had been a sanctuary to hide. In later years his friends would sneak in, Sirius sleeping at the foot of the bed as Padfoot, James making him laugh with his bad jokes, Peter bringing him treats from the kitchen. And always there was Poppy, a second mother, tending to his wounds and getting him to take potions with her no nonsense determination. 

“Hello?” The room was empty, the beds all made with careful precision. A screen blocked the last bed, offering privacy to anyone who might need to be shielded from others, but it was empty just like the rest. It had been the bed he’d used most often, giving him a place to hide when anyone else came into the room. He sat down and looked up. The same jagged crack was still in the plaster of the ceiling. When he’d started at Hogwarts it had only been one long crack, but with a little help from an ‘accident’ third year there were two smaller cracks. With squinted eyes and a little imagination one could see Canis Major. Sometimes when he’d had to spend the night Sirius had crept down and made it glow, telling Remus it was his own personal night light.

“That better not be Charlie Weasley hiding behind there. If you’ve been in the forest again I will have to talk to the headmaster.” Poppy Pomfrey's shoes were too soft to make noise as she approached, a fact that had gotten the Marauders in trouble more than once, but fortunately Remus had no reason to worry this time. From the sounds of it at least one Weasley was taking after his uncles.

“I promise I haven’t been anywhere near the forest.” He grinned when Poppy came around the edge of the screen. For a moment it was as if nothing had changed since he was last in the same bed, a boy of eighteen just weeks away from leaving school. He had never quite been able to figure out how old Poppy was; after more than a decade she looked the same as the day they had met.

“Remus.” She rested a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from standing to greet her. With a familiar touch she examined his face, lips pressed together when she touched the scar on his cheek. She examined his hands next, turning them over to look at his palms and wrists. Finally she nodded. “I’ll start the kettle. You remember when the biscuits are kept.”

“Just tea for me, we’re having lunch in the village.” 

“You’ve missed enough meals, I suspect. An extra biscuit before lunch won’t ruin your meal.” He knew better than to argue with her, and fetched the biscuits.

“Now tell me how you’ve really been.” 

He couldn’t fit in the last three or four years in half an hour, but he shared some of the highlights with more bluntness than he’d offered even to Sirius. He didn’t lie about his worst moons, or some of the better ones. And he told her about the potion he’d been taking.

“Their methods might be reputable enough but I’m not entirely trusting of their purpose. I’d be happier if they seemed to make any attempt at reducing pain.” Poppy glanced over her shoulder at her office, where the strongest of her pain relieving potions were stored.

“Maybe they’ll be able to add something once they have the rest figured out.” Honestly he couldn’t imagine a transformation without pain. The past two hadn’t seemed any better than usual. Perhaps not worse, but different, because of a level of awareness. “If I’m lucky they’ll be able to do something about the taste as well.”

“I’m afraid they haven’t invented the potion yet that tastes like chocolate, Remus.” She placed a second chocolate-dipped digestive on his plate. 

“If I had even a passible ability at potions I would have made it my life’s work,” he teased. 

“That’s even beyond Severus’ ability.”

“Severus?” Remus froze, barely blinking as he started at Poppy. “Severus Snape?”

“He’s the potions master now. Apparently he’s good at the job.” Poppy shook her head, the tense lines around her mouth making it clear how she felt about the subject. She’d never spoken even remotely negatively about any professors in his hearing before.

“Dumbledore must know what he’s doing,” Remus said after a moment’s hesitation. The headmaster was known for his complicated plan, but Remus couldn’t fathom what it might be. Snape had been cruel as a student, Remus couldn’t imagine what he would be like as an adult teaching children. Certainly his years as a Death Eater didn’t help anything.

Poppy made a soft huffing sound. She seemed even less convinced. “I might not have any chocolate flavored potions but my office is always well stocked and you know your way here if you ever need anything.”

“You’re a gem.” He almost regretted the fact that his tea cup was empty. If he’d come to Hogwarts alone he might have spent hours talking with Poppy, but Harry and Sirius were somewhere in the castle waiting. “Now I better go rescue Professor McGonagall from Sirius. Who knows what he’s gotten up to unsupervised and let loose in the halls again.”

“Minerva has him in hand, I’m sure.” Poppy rose first, though even at her full height she wasn’t much taller than him sitting down. Size was relative; she’d always ruled her small kingdom without interference from anyone. “Now promise me before you go that you will come here if you need anything, or if there’s any side effects of the potions that trouble you. Your health matters more than you’ve allowed it to.”

“It’s not like the healers I saw as a child. These are real healers from St Mungos.” His parents had never given up hope for a ‘cure’ and had taken him to every rumor of a healer even after he’d started at Hogwarts.

“They don’t seem that interested in healing, some of them.” Poppy smoothed her apron, just as crisp and white as always..

“You and Sirius are two peas in a pod about this.” They weren’t entirely wrong, not that he would admit it to either of them. They didn’t need to know about the cold basement cells or the dispassionate staff. It was bad though that they both worried, and that Sirius knew about his fatigue and discomfort. He wasn’t going to stop taking the potion, and there was no reason for either of them to worry. He could handle it.

“Whatever else can be said about Sirius Black, and I’m sure there’s plenty, he’s a good friend to you Remus Lupin. The amount of times I found him sitting by the door just waiting for you to be allowed visitors.” She smiled a little before frowning. “It’s good that the two of you still have each other.”

“I’m lucky to have you too.” He kissed the top of Poppy’s head before leaving, something he wouldn’t have dared do when he was a student, but it was his standard parting with his mum when she was still alive and it felt right.

Ten minutes later he found Sirius and Harry still in McGonagall's office, the latter distracted by a familiar looking oat biscuit. Minerva hadn’t changed much at all, it seemed. 

“Has he managed to get a detention yet?” Remus leaned against the doorframe.

“Funny that. I was just filling McGonagall in on all of the times that you should have gotten detention but managed to escape. She’s scandalized.” Sirius lounged on one of the chairs across from the desk, looking far more comfortable than he usually had in the room. Then again he was rarely invited to visit the house head unless he was in trouble, and while he wouldn’t have admitted it in school he hated to disappoint McGonagall. She was one of the few adults who actually had his respect.

“I don’t think anything the two of you came up with would scandalize or shock me by now.” She looked pointedly at Sirius first and then himself. 

“Careful, professor,  _ someone _ here might take that as a challenge.” He looked at Sirius, mimicking McGonagall’s pointed gaze.

“I wouldn’t be surprised. How Effie manages I’m sure I don’t know.” McGonagall shook her head. “You can come fully into the room, Remus. No need to linger in the doorway, it will stand firm without you there to prop it up”

“We’re supposed to be down in the main hall to meet Sirius’ cousin in a few minutes. Wouldn’t want her to think we were late.”

“Ah yes, Miss Tonks. Quite the unique character, even when one doesn’t take her special abilities into account. A few weeks ago I arrived at class to find that she was entertaining the room by mimicking a conversation between Filch and his cat. It was highly entertaining, not that I could let on that I enjoyed it. I pretended I didn’t see a thing and avoided having to give her detention.” McGonagall’s eyes twinkled as she told the story, though only the corners of her mouth turned up. “Still I’m relieved that she was sorted into Hufflepuff.”

“Don’t worry, professor, you’ll have Harry in a few years. He’ll be a Gryff, won’t you sprog?” Sirius leaned down and scooped up Harry, placing him on his lap.

“I’m gonna be a giffydoor like Padfoot.” Sirius had been amused to dress Harry in a Gryffindor jersey for the day, and the small boy puffed out his chest to show off the lion.

“And your mum and dad too, remember?” Sirius prompted.

“Uh huh. And Moony.” Harry nodded his head far more times than was necessary. “But not Dora. Dora’s a yellow one. We’re having lunch with Dora today. We haven’t seen her forever and ever but we’re going to eat chips and chocolate and see the owls. Can we see Dora now?”

“Just as soon as you tell the professor thank you for the biscuit,” Sirius agreed. Harry wiggled off his lap, and to Remus’ amusement ran around the desk to throw himself at McGonagall, awkwardly hugging her legs.

“Thank you for the biscuit. When you come to my house you can have one of my biscuits. Sometimes Nani makes them but sometimes Uncle Remus makes them and they’re good too.” 

“Thank you, Harry. I look forward to that.” McGonagall was almost too late to be heard for Harry, who made a beeline for the door once he’d spoken. He had been talking for days about seeing Dora, and was probably almost to the first staircase already. Sirius had followed him with a quick wave and a ‘see you soon’ to McGonagall.

“If I don’t hurry they’ll probably be halfway to the village before I get there.” Remus began to excuse himself.

“I hope you’ll come visit me soon, Remus. I’m afraid that when school’s in session I don’t have much of a chance to visit the Potters but I’d like to hear how you’re doing.”

“I’d like that.” Remus looked around the office wistfully, his memories of the place generally happy ones. His own years at school weren’t without detentions and scoldings from McGonagall, but she’d also been in the habit of calling him in to check on him, or just to talk. 

“It’s good that you’re home.” She looked at him, not speaking, but he was at a loss about how to respond. ‘Home’ was a complicated word and he wasn’t sure if she was talking about Hogwarts, England, or the Potter’s home. For a moment his thoughts flashed on Sirius, probably waiting impatiently for him to come down, and Harry who thought his baking was good. Sometimes home wasn’t a place at all.

“I’ll see you soon, Professor.” He hurried down a series of moving staircases almost without thought, their patterns unchanged and still second nature. Harry and Sirius were alone in the hall, examining the house points. Ravenclaw seemed to be slightly ahead.

“Too many blue ones,” Harry commented loyally, making Remus laugh.

“At least they’re not green,” Sirius muttered. Remus stepped up to his side and poked him in the ribs with his elbow.

“Be nice. They’re just kids.” Certainly many of those they’d faced in the war had spent their educational years as Slytherins, but then Peter had worn Gryffindor colors.

“Speaking of kids you’d better prepare yourself. Here comes trouble.” Sirius grinned as a girl ran across the hall, her hair colored a bright yellow. Her face looked a little like Andromeda Tonks and a little more like Ted, but strangely a little like Sirius when he was delighted with something too. Remus only vaguely recognized her as the young child he’d known, which was unsurprising. It had been years.

“Wotcher, Nif.” She picked up Harry under his arms and spun him around, making him laugh.

“Nif?” Remus asked curiously, under his breath so only Sirius could hear him. 

“Short for niffler. The first year after…” Sirius paused and took a breath, but relaxed a little when Harry laughed. “We spent a lot of time visiting Andi when I was figuring things out, learning how to take care of a kid and all that. Every time I got home it seemed like Harry had something squirreled away. Usually it was something of Dora’s, though he seemed to like Andi’s spoons and occasionally her jewelry. Dora said he was like a niffler, always going after the shiny things. Finally got him to stop doing it about his third birthday but Dora still likes the name.”

“I can see a bit of a resemblance. Same hair,” Remus commented with a grin.

“Wotcher, Siri.” Dora came over with Harry riding on her back. Now that she was closer Remus could see that her yellow hair had black and silver tips. Clearly it was a house loyalty thing.

“Getting into any trouble yet, kid? I think I had detention at least a couple of times by the third month of school.”

“I’m pretty sure you had detention by the third day of school, Pads.” In fact he was certain of it, because James and Sirius both had detention the first Saturday of school and he hadn’t had to make an excuse about why he wasn’t in the dorm for his first full moon. 

“Hey, I know you. We have a picture of you at the house. You went to school with Siri.” Dora squatted down so Harry could slide off her back. When she stood back up she touched a scar on Remus’ face with one finger. “You didn’t have that in the picture.”

“Don’t be rude, Nymphadora. Moony’s my best mate.”

“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it, just said it wasn’t there before. And I hate it when people call me Nyphadora.” For a moment her hair flared a dark orange before settling into yellow again.

“It doesn’t bother me. They are what they are.” Remus shrugged. He’d rather the bluntness of children then the whispers and stares of adults. Or worse, the fear and anger. “I’m Remus, I did go to school with Sirius. What name do you like best?”

“Dora’s okay. My best friend Charlie calls me Tonks and I like that best.” She grinned up at him before turning back to Sirius. “Is it time to go? I’m starving.” 

“Your mum would never forgive me if I let you starve. Let’s go.” Before he even finished speaking Dora and Harry were racing for the door, towards the courtyard and the pathway beyond. Remus figured it was a good thing his legs were longer, because neither kid stopped running until they reached the edge of the village.

II

“You have to eat something other than chips if you want to go to Honeydukes. And that’s you too,” Sirius grinned at Remus who rolled his eyes at him. 

“Says the man that once went a year without eating anything green.” 

“I ate oranges so I wouldn’t get scurvy.” After a childhood of being made to eat exactly what was on his plate it was a delight to reach school and find that what he ate was only his own choice. Moony had been a little more practical about nutrition. It was one of the reasons it had been so painful and upsetting to see Remus so thin. Remus loved food most of the time, the day after a full being a rare exception. Such painful thinness meant a lack of interest in taking care of himself or worse, not being able to afford food.

“I like oranges,” Harry chimed in. He’d already seen pasties on someone else’s plate and decided on pasties and chips for lunch. 

“Me too.” Tonks’ hair was suddenly bright orange. A moment later it shaded to red. “And strawberries.”

“And bananas and grapes and apples and chocolate.” In rapid succession Tonks’ hair turned yellow, purple, green and a brown that was just a shade darker than Remus’ hair. Harry was always amused, but it was Remus’ delight that was the most fun to observe. The last time he had seen Tonks she had only a little control over her ability to change, and even a sneeze meant she changed her appearance. 

“How marvelous. Can you really do any color?” Not for the first time Sirius wondered what it would be like if Remus could control his own transformations, like he became Padfoot and Tonks changed her appearance. If only they could come up with a potion for that. 

“Just about.” She scrunched up her face and took a breath. A moment later her hair was much shorter, done up in spikes in a rainbow of colors. She held out her fingers and they were rainbow as well.

“Wicked,” Remus cheered in delight as Harry clapped his hands. Most of the people around them glanced over, but the adults quickly pretended they weren’t looking. A moment later the waitress came over to take their order. He and Tonks both went for the fish and chips, while Harry got his pasties and a side of chips. Remus got a shepherd’s pie and salad.

“Salad? Really Moony? You’re not having any of my chips.” He pulled the malt vinegar over to his side of the table. “That’s not proper pub food.”

“You can have some of my chips,” Tonks offered. Perhaps she remembered Moony from more than just a photo or perhaps it was just that he was an easy person to trust, but she’d insisted on sitting next to Remus and was already clearing off a space between them. 

“Clearly I befriended the wrong cousin.” Remus teased. Sirius stuck out his tongue.

“So tell us, Tonks, what’s your favorite class so far?” He hadn’t had a chance to talk to her since school started.

“Charms probably. Defense could be the best but Professor Nghiem doesn’t let us do anything. Shouldn’t there be spells or something when we’re talking about defending ourselves? And flying is amazing of course. Mum said I could get a broom for Christmas and then Charlie and I are going to train in secret so we can be on our quidditch teams next year.”

“I can play quidditch.” Harry looked up from the placemat he was coloring.

“Maybe you and your cousin can play quidditch when she visits after Christmas. She’s going to stay with us for a bit.”

“At my house? She can sleep in my room,” he offered enthusiastically.

“Since she’s going to be with us for more than a week she’ll have her own room, right next to yours.” At the moment it was the only empty bedroom, though he knew that Remus intended to move out before she arrived. He hoped to change his mind, though considering his friend’s stubbornness he didn’t hold out a lot of hope.

“We can have a slumber party one of the nights, Nif. Maybe Siri and Remus could come too. I’ll ask dad to send over my sleeping bag when I come.”

“My days of voluntarily sleeping on the floor are over. I’m afraid I’ll have to pass, but I can make hot chocolate for the sleepover,” Remus offered.

“You can always sleep on the sofa, old man,” Sirius teased, though he didn’t have any interest in sleeping on a hard floor either. Maybe he and Remus could share the sofa; it wouldn’t be the first time. In fact last time they had it had been rather comfortable.

“Are you very old?” Tonks tilted her head to the side and looked up at Remus. “My mum says she’s not old but she’s thirty-four.”

“Some days I feel ancient.” Remus ran his hand through his hair, peppered with bits of grey. Sirius could still remember the day in fifth year when Remus had noticed the first bit of grey and had refused to look in the mirror for at least a week afterwards.

“He’s twenty-four, just like me, and not nearly as old as he thinks.”

“Only until next week, because someone has a birthday coming up,” Remus pointed out. 

“Huh, that’s right.” He’d almost forgotten, and tried to remember when the last time was that he’d actually celebrated his birthday. They’d done a cake the last couple of years, but not much more. It would have been his twenty-first, when he’d last had a party. The last time he’d had James around.

The waitress brought their food and there were plenty of chips to go around. By the time they were done there were still some rogue chips lying around unfinished because everyone was full. They headed for Zonko’s next and lost half an hour in the madcap melee of the shop. Sirius nudged Remus when they passed the door that went down to the basement and the secret entrance to Hogwarts.

“Don’t even think about it,” Remus said softly.

“Spoilsport,” Sirius replied.

Everyone left with at least one treat from the shop. Remus’ bag was a small one, but when they left Honeydukes his bag was unsurprisingly the largest.

“Well that’s you sorted for a week at least.” Sirius grinned, glad to see that Remus was actually buying something for himself. It irked him that most of Moony’s money came from St Mungos, but there had been a little translation work lately. “Still think you should have gone for the twenty-five pound bar.”

“I like variety,” Remus said with a shrug.

“As long as variety is chocolate flavored.” He’d picked up chocolate as well, but at least half of it was meant for Remus. He’d tuck some of it away fro the next moon, thankfully almost three weeks away.

“Can we see the owls now?” The melted chocolate around Harry’s mouth seemed to indicate that Harry had finally caught his escaped chocolate frog.

“It’s getting late. I think you have to make a choice, owls or going back to Hogwarts and seeing the quidditch pitch..” He’d made a promise to Madame Sprout to have his cousin back at the school before four.

“Real quidditch?”

“It’s a bit smaller than a regulation field, but it’s real enough. It’s where your dad played when he was at school.” He’d played a bit too, but only when James made a fuss about needing extra players to substitute. Organized sports hadn’t been his thing. Remus had refused no matter how much begging had happened, hating to be more than two feet above the ground. He flew only when strictly necessary. “Madame Hooch said we could borrow a training broom and take it for a ride.”

“We don’t need to see the owls,” Harry decided.

“Wicked, can I come?” Tonks asks.

“I’ll sit in the stands and cheer you on.” Remus shrugged.

“Don’t eat too much chocolate just because we’re not looking. And of course you’re coming, cousin. I already arranged for an extra broom.” He was almost knocked over by the force of his young cousin’s enthusiastic hug. 

The rest of their visit to Hogwarts was taken up with practice laps around the pitch, Harry on his lap with an extra sticking charm for safety, Tonks showing off what she’d learned so far, and Remus sitting in the stands watching, cheering them on whenever they were close enough to the Gryffindor stands to hear him. It had been ages since he’d flown anywhere, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d been missing it. Harry was thrilled. Clearly they’d have to make a more regular thing of flying in the future. But not too often, since Remus wouldn’t join him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Sirius' birthday is canoniscally at the beginning of November, but that didn't work well in the story to have it right after Halloween. So I've changed pushed it back about three weeks. Guess what the next chapter is about?


End file.
